Blood of the Forgotten
by sionslayer66
Summary: As a rogue and seemingly human dreadnought begins to terrorize the borderlands of the Attican Traverse, two agents from the Systems Alliance and Turian Hierarchy must join forces to outwit a twisted warlord on a path of destruction. What they find is a dark conspiracy from the genesis of the Alliance, revealing a decades-old cover-up that threatens the organization from within.
1. Captured In the Void

The small scout craft gradually maneuvered itself at little past a safe speed, keeping a slight curve of trajectory as it propelled itself forward. It made barely a hum at such a pace, with only a trickle of translucent blue light escaping its mass effect engines. To the casual observer, it would appear the ship was practically at a standstill.

A massive, red, nameless gas giant loomed over the ship to its starboard side, acting as perfect contrast among the two objects of such differing magnitudes. What would be more apparent, however, was the bright cloud of colors that hung over the planet's edge, a nebula of moderate proportions that brought some much-needed variety to the otherwise dull ball of gas.

The scout craft was of turian design. Its plate-like armor design presented several slabs of hardened metal that expanded outwards with each successive plate, with layer upon layer offering the best of protection to a vessel of such a size without sacrificing mobility. It was as well painted in the colors of the Hierarchy, a rusty orange against white that informed all who gazed upon it just which proud race it belonged to.

To accommodate such a small vessel, it held only a crew of ten, with light weaponry that could hold its own against a single fighter but barely anything past that. If they ran into any trouble, running would be the first course of action followed by alerting the real star-ships of just who and what was attacking them.

The ten person crew in question belonged to the Palaven's Fire and weren't too concerned with being attacked by anyone this far out in the middle of nowhere. The border between the Attican Traverse and the Terminus Systems was typically one wrought with conflict. But from how close they were to the fringes of dark space, it practically guaranteed a lack of hostile presence past an angry asteroid floating their way.

"Look sharp," Captain Olymrius announced at a mumble from atop his command perch. He stared intently at the front viewscreen glass and the encompassing monitors that sat next to it, occasionally staring down at the operators who were working the controls.

"That's a fourth," Private Vicril said with a snicker as he slyly held out his hand in expectation. "Pay up."

Private Gardius, who sat beside him groaned in defeat and reluctantly slid a twenty cred chit across his station and over to Vicril's who happily pocketed it in an instant. "And I here I thought three would be the magic number."

Vicril grinned. "Not with the Captain it's not."

"Cut the chatter, Private," Olymrius commanded. "Keep your eyes focused on those sensors. We're passing into the nebula as we speak."

He gripped the guardrails of his raised perch above the rest crew with a nervous tenacity. He squinted his eyes ahead at the blurry mass of surplus gas from the planet as it washed over the front of the ship and enveloped it entirely. Visibility dropped significantly, and he could see the sensor monitors begin to show blank screens or half processed resolutions of the perimeter around them.

None of the crew seemed to worry all that much. It was a standard occurrence whenever a ship got caught in a nebula that the sensors would cut out momentarily. Olymrius couldn't quite recall the science behind it; a navigator had once tried to explain it to him. It had something to do with the frequencies getting interfered with by the gasses atomic makeup or something. He didn't pretend to understand it and was fine with the fact that he didn't.

The entire reason they'd been sent out into such an isolated fringe of the galaxy was in search of possible pirate or privateer presence raiding turian shipping freighters in the closest colonial systems. Gas giants were perfect hideouts for an experienced crew of criminals who wanted to hide among the masking planetary body.

This was the Flame's third gas giant they'd inspected in a week, and so far none had turned up anything. In hindsight, it was foolish of the Hierarchy to be expecting such a massive search of such isolated systems, but apparently the raiding was getting to be a pretty serious problem for the Traverse colonies. If someone didn't stop them soon, some of the more recent ones might just have to be scrapped all together. The government simply couldn't support a colony that didn't yield fruit.

But what Olymrius was most worried about was the demeanor his crew was handling the situation with. He'd made it clear that they were out scanning for trouble, and not one person had taken the threat of actually coming across a problem as a likely one. He didn't want to go off and label the entire group a lazy bunch. When the situation called for it, they could take things seriously. But in a assignment that seemed as menial as this one...he could see the reasoning.

He was so focused on their steady progress through the misty cloud that he didn't even notice the figure standing behind him. It was only when they spoke that his brain finally registered their presence.

"Captain Olymrius?" a female turian voice stated. "Do you have a minute?"

He swung around to the voice's source and smiled, bowing his head in equal respect. "Of course, Lieutenant. What to do you need?"

Lieutenant Siana Terso was a fairly recent introduction to the ship's crew. In fact, she technically wasn't even part of it. Despite the military rank she'd earned during her mandatory service period, she was currently an acting psychiatric examiner for the military's personnel. Her evaluations had been assigned just a week prior for the crew and were to conclude just a day before they were set to leave.

However, due to a slight scheduling oversight on the Hierarchy's part (a rare occurrence indeed), the Palaven's Fire's official examination instead coincided on the same day they were to depart. Terso, willing to accommodate this mistake and not to wanting to contribute any further to the slightly bent schedule, had happily accepted the Captain's offer to come along with them on the mission and conduct the examinations between relay jumps.

So far, the results had been promising and just about what Olymrius had expected. The crew displayed high registers of mental health, and their hardline discipline was still well intact. There, of course, were instances of 'lack of motivation', which was just an intelligent way of saying 'not caring about what you're paid to do.' But he assumed, with a little bit of self-convincing, that most of that was a victim of circumstance. They'd been gone for well over three weeks now and boredom was certainly getting to the crew.

And overall he liked Lieutenant Terso. She took her work seriously, had the legitimate prerogative of getting things done, and seemed to be the only other person on the ship, excluding himself, who was taking the mission seriously. Not only that, she had a very inviting personality, led inciteful conversation, and was quite the looker if he did say so himself.

"I was just wondering on our progress at the moment," she said with a gesture to the wide viewscreen. "But it looks like we've already passed into the nebula." She sighed. "And now all we can do is wait."

Olymrius nodded grimly. "It's definitely the worst part of looking for pirates or slavers. You never can tell what's on the other side until you're there. If anything _is_ on the other side, though, we'll be out of here in the blink of an eye."

"I don't think that's gonna be a problem, Captain," Private Vicril interjected as he turned his chair around to face them. "If there were any raiding vessels in this section of the Traverse I'd doubt they'd be this far out in the system. There's not a civilized world for light years. If you ask me, I'd say that-"

"If I wanted your opinion I would have asked you, Private," the Captain said sharply. "Our mission is to inspect any and all possible locations of pirate vessels. The system is still in range of a mass effect relay. That gives the possibility, no matter how uncertain, that a raiding party could be hiding out in the area. Do I make myself clear?"

The other turian mumbled a "yessir" and got back to work.

They continued to glide through the nebula; the entire bridge silent save for the low hum of the engines and the clicking of terminal keys. Both Terso and Olymrius kept their eyes on the viewscreen while the rest of the crew rolled theirs. It was after a few minutes of this that the ship's navigator called up to Olymrius.

"Captain, we've nearly cleared the nebula. Short range sensors should return to full functionality in a minute's time."

He nodded. "Very good. And what about the long range?"

"May take a bit more time, we're still getting some interference."

The cloud was gradually beginning to dissipate from the viewscreen while the sensor monitors began to display a clearer image of their immediate vicinity. Some of the crew began to chat quietly now that the imposed silence was finally over, returning a sense of casual flair that'd been absent leading up to their pass through.

Olymrius breathed a sigh of relief at this and was thankful that another passing over was completed. Now all he'd have to do was wait for the next time for it to happen. They still had two other systems to check out before they could return to port, which meant that his heart couldn't entirely be put at rest.

"Captain," the Lieutenant said with a tap on his shoulder. "I don't mean to bother you, but do you see that?" She pointed forwards at the viewscreen, slightly off to his left and up a few notches.

The Captain could feel one of his mandibles flicker slightly. "What do you mean?"

"That, over there. Just off by the planet's other side. At the corner of the viewscreen."

He squinted his eyes in the general direction, seeing the vague outline of...something in that region. It was too far from where they were and was against the backdrop of black space, making any discernible quality difficult to spot with the naked eye.

"I don't believe I can see it from here, Lieutenant. Gardius, Vicril," he called down to the two operators, "are you two picking up anything on the short range sensors?"

"Vaguely, Captain," Gardius replied. "The signal's weak but we're getting something off by the planet's western hemisphere, close to one of its poles."

He looked back up at the viewscreen and saw that the vague shape Terso had seen was exactly in that direction. The outline was still the only thing visible, but his mind was beginning to form its own conclusions of whatever it was. He didn't like what they may or may not be seeing, and his gut was beginning to give him a pretty good idea in what to do with the situation.

"Skipper, turn the ship around and make an immediate course back to the system relay. I gotta bad feeling about this place."

There wasn't an initial response from the pilot signifying he'd retained the order, a very rare occurrence on any turian vessel. Olymrius was about to repeat himself when the pilot finally responded with bewilderment to his words.

"Captain...I'm having some trouble getting us into position. For some reason, our acceleration is increasing but the engine readings are saying that we're still at our forward speed."

Olymrius inhaled deeply, leaning forwards in anticipation. "How fast are we increasing?"

"We're at a steady 15%, but it looks like...no, we're now up to 20%. Scratch that, it says we're-"

As if in an instant, the Palaven's Fire shot forwards at a sudden increase in speed, knocking anyone standing straight to the ground. Olymrius landed awkwardly on his side. He could feel the impact of the steel floor against his armor but felt the hardened fibers of his suit cushion most of the blow for him. The top of his head still banged against the floor, sending a bright flash through his vision.

Shaking it off, he pushed himself back onto his feet and offered his arm to the Lieutenant who'd as well fallen beside him. A warning siren began to go off in the ship as he helped her back to her feet, painting the hexagonal bridge in a flashing red gaze

"You alright?" he said, noticing she was clutching her shoulder.

She winced as she nodded. "I'm okay."

The opposite was probably the truth. A broken or dislocated bone was the obvious likelihood. He would've offered her medical assistance if he still didn't have a ship to run. If she asked for it, she'd get it. But right now a bit more pressing things were on his mind, namely, just what the hell had just happened.

"Skipper, what the hell just..."

He didn't need a response from anyone else to finally put it together. It was right in front of him, just past the viewscreen and looming over them like a rumbling storm. His jaw dropped and he could feel the air get sucked out of his lungs. He assumed that was what everyone else onboard was doing.

The vague outline Terso has pointed out earlier was much larger now, fully in perspective under the gas giant's massive crimson backdrop. It was a vessel of some sort, gargantuan in size and length, stretching at least a kilometer from bow to stern and several stories from top to bottom. It was heavily armored like a warship, but never had Olymrius seen one like this.

Its design was incredibly symmetric, with a vaguely rounded, flat rectangular outer body that extended for nearly 3/4's of the ship's length. Past that, nearer to its back section were three jagged triangular wings that sloped backward right were the rectangular front portion ended. Four mid-sized engines sat to the rear, closely linked to one another with fairly narrow nozzle extensions.

A dreadnought sized mass driver sat on ship's top with a command center positioned just behind the weapon's first tier accelerator position. The vessel sported a dizzying aware of disruptor torpedoes, missiles, close-range turrets and other smaller armaments on each side of the warship's exterior. But what was most curious wasn't the weapons posted on the ship's top and sides, but the one positioned at its bottom.

Immediately below the mass driver was a u-shaped indentation that jutted inwards for what looked like several stories, before jutting back outwards in the form of a large circular cannon of sort. Its front was disk shaped and appeared to go even further inwards into the ship's bowels. It lacked the sleek, slenderness of a mass driver and was instead a widened cylinder that hung idly at the ship's stern.

"Look at the size of that thing!" someone called out.

"Just what in the Spirits is that?"

"It looks human."

Olymrius had to agree, it certainly looked human in design. Its rectangular front section almost perfectly resembled that of the Alliance Navy, reflecting a symmetrical meticulousness that spoke of collected security. The humans always did pride themselves on their obsession of self-defense. Their bulky ship designs only made the point clearer.

But the ship lacked the distinct markings of the Alliance, the bright white and blue coating was absent instead replaced with the plain grey of unpainted dura-steel. This gave it the initial impression of a pirate vessel with its relative lack of distinction but even the greenest of recruits knew that no pirate gang possessed dreadnoughts, not even the batarians. So just what were they looking at?

He'd worry about that later. For now, he still had a ship to run.

"Viso," he called over the ship's klaxons, "what's our situation?"

A low murmur of nervous chatter began to form among the anxious crew but the skipper could still be easily heard. "Our acceleration is up to 50%. I cut our engine speed, but we're still moving towards that ship. It appears to have us in a tractor beam."

"Damn it," he murmured. No way could a ship of his size outmaneuver a tractor beam's magnetic pull, especially now that they were so close to it. A better-armed vessel could have the opportunity to locate the tractor beam's location with short range sensors and destroy it from the outside, but Palaven's Fire simply didn't have anything close to that amount of firepower.

So instead, he turned his attention to a different approach. "Navigator, try to open a hailing channel with the ship. I want to know just who the hell we're dealing with."

The navigator did as he was told and within a few moments, a small pinging came from Olymrius's terminal as the channel was opened. Without wasting a moment, he spoke into the receiver.

"Unknown vessel, this is Captain Sertis Olymrius of the Palaven's Fire, Turian Eighth Fleet. Please identify yourself."

There was silence over the channel, prompting him to repeat the message.

"Unknown vessel, this is Palaven's Fire requesting official identification of your business in this system."

He was met with silence once again. This was starting to look even worse than it already was. They had no hope of breaking from this ship's hold and by the looks of the viewscreen, the ship was practically on top of them, no doubt with an intention to board. If he were going to do anything, he'd have to do it now.

"Navigator, patch that ship's channel coding back to the Hierarchy. Tie in a message explaining the situation and request for immediate assistance."

The navigator began typing into his console but promptly look back up at him. "Captain, the ship's jamming our frequencies. I'm not sure if the message would be able to get out in time."

"Well do it anyway! It's the only chance we've-"

The scouting ship rumbled once again, with a loud thud of metal against metal followed by a telltale clank of magnetic locks fixing into place. Now they were trapped, entirely at the mercy of whoever was operating the goliath of a vessel before them.

"Navigator, did you get the message out?"

"Yes, Captain."

He sighed. Well at the very least something could be done if they ended up dead. The promise of justice would be the one thing he could console himself with in the face of death. Suddenly, his terminal began to ping with an incoming transmission. He received it without hesitation.

"Crew of the Palaven's Fire," a voice spoke clearly through the terminal. It was distinctively human in tone but with a scratchy pronunciation that made its 's' sound come out as a hiss and everything else as a leathery growl close to that of a turian's. Not only that, whoever was speaking seemed to have difficulty breathing, rasping lowly each time they took a breath.

"You are at this moment ordered to surrender yourselves to boarding forces," the voice continued. "We wish none of you harm but will not hesitate to act if resistance is displayed. Please respond, over."

Olymrius's eyes flared up. It was hard to contain his rage, his disgust at the insult to him and his crew's honor. At the very least a request of such nature would be done in person to retain some form of elegance to the action, not over the anonymity of a computer screen like a coward. Perhaps such communication was in order considering the circumstances but the action still sullied him.

"Who is this?" he asked skeptically, sensing his crew's attention beginning to focus on their conversation. "And just what're you doing out here?"

"I could ask the same of you, Captain."

"Very funny, wise guy. But I'm not about to surrender my ship and crew to some idiot who won't even tell me his name."

The voice chuckled, more like growled, at the insult. "Captain Samuel Larris of the Arc Monitor."

"Are you with the Alliance, 'Larris'?"

Another growl. "Thankfully not. Although they'll be time for more questions later. As of now, I need to once again request that you surrender yourselves to our boarding party. You will not be harmed."

Olymrius glared at the terminal as if it was the very man he was talking with. "Do you honestly think any of us would fall for that? That's practically imprisoning ourselves and saving you the trouble."

"This is not a negotiation, Captain. You're a very small scouting vessel out in the middle of a very empty vacuum. Either give yourselves up without the need of unnecessary bloodshed or I can order your ship to be target practice for our mass accelerator. The choice is yours."

Olyrimus was left standing wide-eyed at the terminal. His crew, in turn, looked to him with equal bewilderment, waiting to see just what he'd do. There was no way to tell if the mystery human over the comm was lying. The fact that he claimed not to be Alliance yet possessed a dreadnought spoke of a clear and impossible contradiction. The possibility of any non-military personnel possessing a dreadnought was something not even the most well-funded of pirates could pull off.

Which left him without many options. Guaranteed death or the possibility of safety. Nothing else to it. Life was full of chances and it seemed like he'd was about to make another. He just prayed he wasn't wrong.

"Captain Larris," he said quietly, hating each word he spoke "we agree to your terms. The Palaven's Fire is yours."

"Excellent, Captain. I knew you'd make the right decision. We're connecting umbilical docking procedures now. Arc Monitor, out."

The channel pinged closed and the crew was left with the flashing warning siren still in the background. To the membes of the Palaven's Flame, the sound couldn't have been further away.

"Well, this sucks," one crew member declared bitterly. "Get captured by a bunch of damn humans on a mission like this. If we ever make it back alive the Hierarchy's gonna chew us out."

"That piece of crap didn't sound too human to me," Vicril replied with equal dissatisfaction. "Was like a freakin' lizard trying to talk."

"What if it is a lizard?"Gardius questioned in partial sincerity. "What if this is a new race we've never known about? That would explain the weird ship and even weirder voice."

"Everyone!" Olymrius shouted. "It doesn't matter who or what these people are. The fact of the matter is that we're docked with a dreadnought that's no doubt crawling with people who aren't with us. If we're gonna make it through this we need to cooperate with them the best we can and think of some way to get out of this."

"And how do we plan to do that?" Lieutenant Terso said from behind, breaking her relative silence while still clutching her shoulder a bit tighter than before.

"We'll figure something out. For now, everyone just stay calm and play by their rules. The better they trust us, the better chance we have in escaping."

A consensus went through the group of about ten. Cloak and dagger was about the only strategy open to them at this point and would be the one tactic that had, at least, a fraction of succeeding. It all depended on whomever the ship belonged and just how true to their word they would be.

A few moments later, after waiting in anticipation for just what would happen next, one of the sensor modules began to beep. Vicril glanced over at the monitor.

"Captain, it says our inner airlock door is being sliced."

Olymrius grinned. "That must be our guests now. Let's meet them."

* * *

The crew stepped carefully out of the center bridge over to the rear of the ship. The crew quarters and maintenance entrance were in this region as well as the engine room and airlock door. As Vicril's computer had confirmed, the uniform clicking of a portable codebreaker could be heard on the hermetic door's outside terminal, as well as a set of voices on the other side.

Suddenly, without any warning, the door swished open on both sides. Olymrius could feel a collective jolt go through the cluster of them as the figures from outside entered the room with their weapons raised.

There was five of them in total, two humans and three turians, all fully adorned in combat armor with helmets concealing their faces. The boarders held a combination of assault rifles, submachine guns, and shotguns cautiously at the hip, pointing directly at the crew. If they'd wanted to, they could've gunned them all down in an instant.

"Who of you is Captain Olymrius?" one of the humans asked, his helmet swishing from side to side as he looked the group over.

Olymrius raised his hand and stepped forward. "That would be me."

The human nodded and lowered his weapon. "Captain, I'm going have to request your permission to bind and blind you and your crew as we transport you onto our ship."

He looked back to his crew and gave a flick of his mandible. "You have my permission."

One of the humans and one of the turians brandished several sets of servo cuffs and black hoods. They fitted them onto the crew one by one, getting nothing in the way of resistance from the captured lot.

"Sir," one of the armored turians said to the human, possibly an officer, Olymrius had been speaking with. "One of their crew appears injured."

He turned to see that the turian with the cuffs stood beside Terso, who was still gripping her shoulder. Her faced was locked in a pinched state of agony as droplets of blue blood had begun to run down her slender arms and onto the floor. She shook her head at the attention and nudged away from the armored turian.

"I'm fine," she stammered through shaky words. "It's nothing too bad."

"That looks serious," the officer remarked to Olymrius. "We have medical facilities onboard if you'd require it."

He nodded. "I think we do."

Terso opened her mouth to argue but found that she simply didn't have the strength, slumping her shoulders over instead. Olymrius would have been resistant to the idea of receiving medical aid from a group strangers who just captured his ship. But Terso didn't look like she'd be getting any better anytime soon and so far the gang of hijackers was quite respectable considering their occupation.

A black hood was suddenly fastened over his head, and he could feel two human hands snap a set of cuffs onto his own. The boarding group had them line up in a single-file rank and escorted them out of the ship, no doubt watching with an air of skepticism just in case the captured crew had anything planned for escape.

 _Not yet_ Olymrius thought to himself. _Not yet_.


	2. The Alliance Connection

Agent Ardarius Cosbius strolled through the wide open atrium of the Hierarchy Intelligence Agency, keeping his eyes stoutly forward as he walked through the moderately populated space. The morning sun of Palaven shone brightly into the building, painting the space in a cheery glow that very well complemented the imposing turian architecture.

He passed a handful of office workers and minor agents milling around in the high-ceilinged common space, nodding to a few that he knew and even saying 'hi' to another. He stopped in front of several sets of elevators and scanned his omni-tool recognition card over the nearest receptor. Like he was an invited guest the hermetic doors slid open in an instant. He stepped inside.

It took another scan to hale the elevator down to the third sub-level basement, his typical place of work among the massive hexagonal Intelligence Agency building. The metal box zipped downwards and let him off at his intended level, hissing shut behind him immediately after he stepped out.

The sub-level was just as sparsely populated as the atrium, with only a handful of other turians working at the moment. The bright sunlight from earlier had been replaced with the deep, dark blue haze of underground lighting and the wide open common space was now narrow metallic hallways.

Ardarius walked only a short distance from the where he'd been let off before reaching an office door just down the corridor. Scanning himself in, he stepped inside without preamble.

He found himself in a large conference room of some sort, with a large oval shaped meeting table in the chamber's center and an equally sized monitor sitting on standby at the space's center wall. A single occupant inhabited the room at the opposite end of the table, just noticing his arrival as the door slid shut.

"Ardarius," a mildly aged and friendly looking turian greeted him from across the room. "It's very nice to see you this morning."

The older turian's plates were of a darkened shade of gray with clan markings of crisp white slashes careening across the front of his faceplate. He was of usual build for a creature of his age, with a broad set of shoulders that hinted at an inate, but concealed measure of strength. He wore the standard Intelligence Agency attire of business casual and smiled friendly at his co-worker and friend.

Ardarius in comparison was much younger in years, still in his required civil service stretch with the etchings of youth clear across him. His plates were a sandy shade of beige while his clan markings were several bright green and black strips under his eyes as well as to the sides of his faceplate. He'd taken the 'casual' in business casual about as far as it could go, and was nearly dressed in dark, stylish street clothes.

Smiling at his friend's inviting spirit, he promptly shook the other turian's hand. "Nice to see you too, Septimus. I hope you're better rested for the day than I've been this week."

Septimus grinned. "Kid keeping you up?"

"Yep. Just six months old and it's still like we just brought him home. Alna and I are managing but the fact that we've gotten another one coming on the way...I'm not sure how long that's gonna last."

"Well, enjoy the relative peace while you can," Septimus said with a pat on his shoulder. "Things are never gonna be the same after you have your second, and maybe third or fourth after that. Either way, I didn't call you in this early just to talk about family. Something rather important has come up in the last twenty-four hours."

Ardarius's eyes narrowed. "What's the situation?"

Septimus reached over to a panel on the conference table and clicked a few keys on the small terminal. The monitor in front of them immediately turned on, displaying a detailed image of the entire galaxy. The focus began to zoom in onto the far right side of the Attican Traverse, just at the border between the Terminus Systems and near the fringes of dark space. Septimus gestured to the monitor.

"Two nights ago we received a garbled distress signal from one of our scouting vessels out in the Traverse. They'd been investigating a string of well-coordinated attacks by what we believe to be the outfit of an organized pirate gang, possibly privateers hired by the batarians. The distress signal stated that they were being boarded and requested immediate assistance from any nearby patrols."

"Unfortunately, the signal eventually cut out before we were able to track their ship further. And although they failed to get any concrete details out, the message stated that the ship was large and appeared human in origin, resembling the direct design of Systems Alliance craft."

"The Alliance?" Ardarius repeated in disbelief. "I doubt they'd be attacking another Council race, and for piracy of all reasons. No way would their government support that."

"Exactly. Which leads us to believe it to be possibly the result of a hijacking or mutiny on one of their ships. The signal stated that the attacking ship appeared to be nearly the size of a dreadnought but lacked any official Alliance markings on its exterior. This could hint at an incomplete vessel or possibly one that's been decommissioned. Whatever the case may be, we have pirates running around with a human dreadnought and no way to track them."

Ardarius crossed his arms in mild agitation. How in blazes did the humans manage to lose a ship the size of a dreadnought, especially considering their established limits on ship production? He wouldn't be surprised if the Alliance kept a few nearly complete ones around in storage if the situation ever called for it, but them losing one all together reeked of inherent and unacceptable carelessness.

"I would hope the humans are doing something about this."

The grey turian nodded. "They are. While we weren't able to get a ship I.D, its transmission frequency was received. But with the Hierarchy's data, we, unfortunately, don't have access to the deeper Alliance archives that could make this minor information useful. But, with a little bit of persistence, the Alliance has offered us full access to these files for our investigation of the matter. Except, there's a catch."

One of Ardarius's mandibles flicked. "And what does that happen to be?"

"Well, as you can tell, the humans aren't exactly in a position they'd like to be in. The circumstances point to either weakness or incompetence concerning the security of their military craft. The Hierarchy's already lost resources with our shipping lanes being attacked and now with an entire scouting crew missing the blame is only going to keep piling on to the humans. Meaning, they want this unfortunate series of events solved just as much as we do, if not more."

Ardarius rolled his eyes. "And so they want to intervene in an official Hierarchy investigation? Can't they just give us access to the Alliance archives remotely and be done with it?"

"They can, but they won't. Say what you want about the humans but they're certainly not trusting enough to freely give away that kind of information. So whether we like it or not, you're going to be working with an Alliance representative." Septimus looked down at his omni-tool. "He should be here by now."

It was at this moment that doors of the chamber slid open and a fair skinned human male strutted into the room, a warm smile stretched across his composed face. He was dressed in a outfit between the formality of Septimus's and the causality of Ardarius's with a well-manicured patch of chestnut hair across his head. He admired the room with a sense of excited intrigue but kept himself thoroughly contained in the rest of his body language.

He was significantly shorter than the both of them by at least a few inches. His body was as well less composed, almost lanky in comparison to the sturdy form of either turian. The human didn't look feeble, however, far from it. There was a certain spryness to his movements, a quickened energy that spoke of excellent alacrity and dexterity. He certainly didn't have the form of a warrior but Ardarius doubted that would matter to the him in a fight.

Seeing that the two were looking at his entrance, the human smiled further. "Good morning!" he declared while walking over to the both of them with an outstretched hand. "It's very nice to finally meet the both of you in person."

Septimus and the human shook hands cordially. "I hope the flight over wasn't too strenuous considering how recent this development's been," the elder turian said with a professional friendliness.

The human shook his head. "Not at all. This isn't the first time I've travelled halfway across the galaxy in less than a week's time, and I can guarantee this won't be the last either."

The human, noticing Ardarius standing absently a few steps away, beamed in his direction. "I'm sorry, I must've forgotten to introduce myself. Agent Maxton Cole, Alliance Naval Intelligence. Agent Septimus and I spoke earlier over secure transmission, but I don't believe we've been properly introduced to one another." Agent Cole extended his hand.

Ardarius accepted it. "Agent Ardarius Cosbius, Hierarchy Intelligence Agency."

Septimus looked to him and gestured to the human. "Agent Cole's already been briefed on the situation so there's no need to get him back up to speed. Cole's worked extensively with rogue military craft in the past, typically under the command of criminal elements."

"You would not _believe_ what warlords in the Terminus pay for any decommissioned naval hardware," the human added. "Even Volus destroyers have gone up to the tens of billions on the black market among some of the smaller pirate factions. Those creeps pay top dollar for anything with guns mounted on it, especially when it's human or turian manufactured."

"But perhaps we could examine the details a bit further," Septimus cut in while standing by the table's terminal. "The examination of the ship archives might be able to spread some light on that matter."

The human nodded his head. "Oh, yes of course. Let me establish the uplink."

He maneuvered himself past Septimus and hunched himself over the miniature terminal. He brandished a simple looking memory stick from his pocket and clicked it into the center of the computer's receiver. Immediately, the System Alliance's insignia appeared on the monitor followed by countless rows of numerically coded subcategories, barely visible from how miniscule each text category was.

The human scrolled for a significant amount of time through the page, seeming to check each individual data pile with a glance. "Could one of you transfer the transmission code to this terminal?" he called over. "I found a system log."

Septimus did just that, and the human got back to his search. With a sudden ping from the terminal, Cole began to rapidly type in a series of commands across the keyboard while occasionally looking up at the monitor for a readout. His speed and poise through the entire process appeared almost effortless from where Ardarius was standing.

After a few minutes of this, the human had a sudden look of confusion and leaned in closer to the terminal as if he'd found something. "That's...interesting," he mumbled to himself while clicking a few more keys to confirm what he'd seen.

"What did you find?" Ardarius asked.

The human backed away from the terminal and looked to them with unsure glances. "Well, I can safely say that the transmission you received is legitimate and appears in our systems. I just can't seem to match it with a ship."

Septimus's mandibles opened in shock. "What?"

"It's an older code, as we initially thought, but it still checks out in the system. Only problem is that no ship within our current archives actually fits in with that specific transmission haleing. I'm not getting a match between active, inactive, or even decommissioned vessels. But the frequency is still coded into the systems for some reason."

"How can that even be possible?"

The human shrugged. "My best guess is mild data corruption. It was stored in some pretty old subsections of the archives, a lot of which are decades old and operating on equipment that are practically antiques after all the developments we've made. Trying to transfer old data onto newer formatting measures can sometimes cut portions of what you're attempting to transfer, usually into smaller fragments."

He looked back over at the terminal with a pondering look. "There's probably other instances of that frequency being used. What I can try to do is look for any other Alliance vessels or stations that have received it in the past. There's bound to be somewhere it's been intercepted other than your scout ship."

"Try it," Septimus said with a gesture to the terminal. "What's ever in those archives is the only lead we have to go off of at the moment."

The human nodded and got back to work. It didn't take as long as before when he called back to them while still looking over the terminal. "I found something. There's only one instance of that frequency being received by official Alliance records, and that was at a now defunct space station out in Alliance Space. Station's name was the _Uhlan_ and was shut down just a few months after the First Contact War ended."

"At least, we now have a relative dating of the ship," Ardarius concluded with a glance to Septimus. "What else can you tell?"

Cole shook his head sadly. "Not much else I'm afraid. This data in particular is on a lot older compression files in comparison to standard Alliance records. It was probably compiled before the major hardware developments after First Contact, making its decoding process on a newer, non-Alliance terminal a bit harder to decipher."

"Then what if we got ahold of an older Alliance terminal from that era?" Septimus suggested. "That might lessen the corruption."

The human thought this over for a moment, slowly nodding as an idea began to form. "That might work but...I think there's more we can do with this. The terminals on Uhlan were the last ones ever to register this mystery dreadnought. With that being the case, there may still be some data stored on the station's local databanks. That would give us a much more comprehensive look at whatever we're dealing with than just digging up the first dinosaur computer we can find."

"But you said the station was decommissioned," Ardarius pointed out. "How would we even expect the terminals to still be there?"

"After First Contact, when the Alliance was acquainting itself with all the new technology at its disposal, a lot of older space-based military facilities were shut down with newer ones rapidly being built in their place. A good portion of these smaller bases' 'shut downs' were just reassigning the staff and leaving the place to rot. I would think since I've never even heard of the Uhlan before today it would fit into that category."

"Then it looks like you two have your first stop," Septimus declared. "I'll requisition a shuttle for you two. In the meantime, pack whatever essentials you need. You'll be leaving in an hour."

Septimus nodded to the both of and stepped out of the room, leaving the two young agents to themselves. They stood there in awkward limbo with one another, not quite sure what to say or if they should say anything at all now that they were technically partners.

The human kept a bright, increasingly strained smile but didn't seem even close to saying a word, his eyes more full of expectation than anything else. Adarius looked back with equal expectation and just a little bit of blankness. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a minuscule gesture to the door.

"We should get packed," he said with hesitance. "It's a long trip from here to Alliance Space."

 **Another chapter down with many more to follow! I won't be able to stick with a solid update schedule but I'll do my best not to leave the story in the dark for TOO long. A lot of it has been written, editing is just what gets me sometimes. Either way, thanks for reading!**


	3. Across the Stars

By the time Cole had gotten back to his hotel room, packed up the modest belongings he'd brought along with him, checked out, and taken a public monorail back to the Agency building, an hour had already passed. As he strolled into the building's shuttle hangar with his luggage slung across his side he could see that Ardarius was already waiting for him.

The sandy turian was speaking with another member of his race, a beefy white and brown male adorned in an orange service suit. They turned to face him as he approached, the uncomfortable feel of their gazes focusing in on him.

"It's good that you made it," Adarius greeted with a slight nod, "Tris was just about to show us to the ship. It's all fueled up and ready to go. I take it you still have the coordinates of Uhlan saved on your omni-tool?"

Cole flashed a forced smile and tapped the machine on his wrist. "Got it all in here."

"Good. Tris, would you mind showing us the way?"

The plus sized turian smirked and gestured for them to follow him. "Right this way gentlemen, right this way."

He led them down a short line of launch pads and maintenance rails.

A recurring sight on the platforms, and what appeared to be the standard requisition ship for the Hierarchy Intelligence Agency, was a vessel of striking turian naval design. Its exterior was an impressive layering of metal plating gradually pushing outwards with each succeeding layer, closely resembling the feathers of a giant iron bird. Its symmetrical shape pierced forwards like a fighter craft and resembled the aerodynamic 'T' structuring that most turian military vessels were known for.

But despite the similarities, it was painted an unassuming drab gray, removing the distinction and attention that Hierarchy Military colors might attract. To the casual observer, they'd appear like nothing more than menial spacefarers, their ship one of many built in the turian style like other private shuttles on the market.

Tris stopped in front of one of these shuttles and motioned to it proudly. "Here she is, standard XR28 Light Shuttle. Little diddy's got full life support systems, standard FTL drive, short range and long range scanners, and minor kinetic shielding just in case you run into any trouble along the way."

Ardarius grinned. "You don't need to give the whole rundown whenever I take one out. I'm pretty sure I got the whole thing down by heart at this point."

"Oh, but I gotta reason now," the big turian replied with a chuckle, "your friend here needs to know just what these things can offer." He looked to Cole. "But I bet the Alliance's got some nicer craft for you guys to take around, eh?"

Cole willed a laugh and shook his head. "No, it's about the same. Except for the shielding. That's something I wouldn't expect them to hand out to standard agents. I know I never got one."

"A lot of the Agency is made up of Hierarchy officers who've shown enough distinction to move up into Intelligence work," Ardarius explained. "These guys, myself included, would prefer a little extra insurance just in case things turn sour when we least expect it. Better safe than sorry after all."

He looked to Tris and nodded. "Thanks again for setting us up. I'll buy you a drink when I get back."

"I'll hold you to it," the turian called back as he began to step away, "You know how much I hate being disappointed." The two waved each other goodbye, leaving just Cole and Ardarius to their ship.

They boarded without another word. The shuttle was spacious enough, with a consistent color palette of whitened yellow across the floor, ceiling, walls, and sparse furniture.

They set their things down in the vessel's center atrium and immediately walked into the cockpit for take off. Ardarius took the ship's center controls while Cole sat beside him in the not quite necessary copilot's chair.

The turian began checking the systems and flicking switches in preparation for takeoff.

"Looks like he really did take care of everything," Ardarius muttered as the ship's repulsors whined to life. "That's a first."

The craft abruptly rose from its resting position. With a sudden lurch forward it took off in a single burst of its engines, speeding out of the hangar and right over the center skyline of Palaven, slowly arching upwards into the higher atmosphere.

They could both feel the pull of G's against their bodies, no amount of shielding or flight manipulation entirely masking them from the grip of gravity. However, after just a few moments of this, the ship evened itself in its speed. They comfortably cruised over the planet's orbit, speeding off without a hitch to the system's nearby mass relay station.

"You know how to pilot a ship?" Ardarius said with his hands still on the controls.

"Only Alliance ones I'm afraid, and the non-military ones at that."

"Did you serve?"

Cole shook his head. "Thought about it out of college but decided I wasn't the type for it. I never was very good at being folded into a group, especially one as large as the Navy." He paused. "I take it you did?"

"Yep. Hierarchy 58th Fleet. Saw action on Nespis V and VII. Got a pretty nasty wound on my left leg during a recon op. It healed, though, and I was back in active duty in less than a month."

Cole raised an eyebrow at this. "So does that mean you're done with your required service?"

"I hope I don't look like I'm forty-five if you're asking that," the turian replied with a smirk. "No, I'm still serving it's just that working with the Agency is part of it now. I was recognized by my CO for what happened on Nespis, and was recommended for transfer into Intelligence work. I was hesitant at first, wanted to stay with my buddies until my time was up. But they pushed me to it saying 'It wasn't every day you get these opportunities.' So, I took that advice to heart and here I am five years later." He paused. "Mind if I ask how you got in with Naval Intelligence?"

"Not at all," the human beamed brightly, more than happy to share. "I studied political science in college and got a job as a small time aid to a small time governor to a small time colony out in the Terminus Systems."

"That sounds pretty normal."

"It was pretty routine work, I'll give it that...until I came across some files alluding to the governor's involvement with batarian slavers. I immediately turned the creep in. Naval Intelligence was impressed with how I'd cracked the case without any reason to do so. They offered me a job, a minor one anyway, and I accepted. Taught me how to fight, taught me how to use a gun. Real interesting how they-"

"Hold on," Ardarius interrupted as he looked down at the controls and out the viewscreen. "It seems like we're coming up to the relay. Get ready for the jump."

"Oh good God," Cole mumbled, tightening his grip on the chair. "This is always the worst part."

He shut his eyes for a majority of the short duration. The mass effect field's pull rattled the ship aggressively, swinging their traction into the relay's side, torrenting the shuttle in a burst of speed as it was catapulted into space and time in less than an instant. He always hated that moment in space travel and prayed that someone would invent a method of space travel that didn't wrench his body like an earthquake.

"You can open your eyes now," Ardarius jested, "we just passed through."

Cole sighed in relief and leaned back in his chair. "Oh, thank goodness. At least, that's the last time we'll be going through one of those until our trip back."

Now with the ship on a pre-assigned course to a string of relays that would eventually take them to Alliance Space, Ardarius slid his hands off the controls and swung his chair around to face him. "Do you have something wrong with space travel?"

"Not anything below mass relay speeds. It's when you get to that level of FTL travel that the window of things going wrong jumps farther than I'd care for it to be. 'Official' studies can go on and on about how thorough Prothean technology can be, but anybody who knows better can always be there to say: 'if something can screw up, it will.'"

"Don't you think that's a little paranoid? Ship collisions are just about as common as a random hull breaches."

Cole grinned wryly at this. "Ardarius, as you'll come to realize, I'm a very paranoid guy. But I think I'm gonna check out the ship for now, get my bearings while I can." He stood stiffly out of his chair and began to fiddle with his omni-tool. "I just forwarded you Uhlan's coordinates for later. Just in case you need to punch them in while I'm busy."

"Alright, I'll be here if you need me."

Cole stepped out of the cockpit and closed the door behind him.

The atrium was brightly lit from above with white lights reflecting well off the interior decorating. There was a small kitchen area to the far right of the room and a long table by the center with encompassing bench seats. Their sleeping quarters led in from a separate door at the room's rear, the airlock to the left and the engine room to the right.

He picked up his belongings and went into the sleeping area, discovering it was a set of six single beds attached by the headboard into the walls. A foot locker sat at the end of each cot while a single restroom was at the side of the room.

Cole sighed. He should have expected communal living arrangements among a turian vessel even if it wasn't technically a military one. He'd be fine though, his college experience reminding him of how to share a room with a stranger.

He chose the nearest bed to himself and stowed his stuff into its chest. Yawning, he opted to lay down on his claimed bed and rest for a moment, feeling the sudden weight of the day begin to pile onto him. He shut his eyes for just a moment and was taken away into a deep slumber as soon as his head hit the pillow.


	4. Wounded

Siana Terso awoke gradually with a stinging pain in her left shoulder. It both burned like pierced flesh and moaned like a bone fracture. She grunted as the pain jostled her from a groggy slumber and tried to mentally shake her mind awake. Her brain felt much more muddled than she remembered it to be, thoughts difficult to get a hold of, confusion ruling her conscious.

She realized she was lying down and instinctively attempted to straighten herself up.

"Woah there!" a foreign voice called to her in an alert but calm tone, pressing her rising chest down and back into a lying position. "Why don't you just stay right there for a moment. You're not in the best of shape to be movin' around so quick."

The skin contact zapped her mind awake. She was lying on a medical table of some sort, a bright surgical light hanging over where she lied. The room was spacious, probably some general med bay, with most of the lights turned off save for the one above.

Seated across from her was a human male, middle-aged, with thick gray hair, fair skin, and wearing a rudimentary medic's uniform.

The human had a kind face and smiled as she looked around the room and finally at him. "You're right quick to be wanting to get up so soon. A lot more lively than you were when they brought you in here."

Siana, keeping her eyes focused on the human, slid herself into a half risen position on the table with the majority of her body still lying down. "Brought in?" she repeated. "What do you mean?"

"You were on the ship we picked up, the _Palaven's Fire_ , just two days ago. Security team brought you in here with a nasty little gash on your shoulder. Compound fracture from how it looked. I got the bone sealed up for you and put it back into place. You've been resting ever since, no doubt your injury and the anesthesia keeping you out."

It slowly began to come back to her. She'd been on the _Fire_ when the strange looking dreadnought began to pull them in with a tractor beam. She remembered taking a nasty fall when they'd been caught and began to clearly remember the pain afterward. She recalled the ship being boarded by humans and turians in body armor with her hands being cuffed and her head masked. But from there...she couldn't recall anything else.

"Who are you?" she said with her eyes narrowing in suspicion at the older human. "And where am I?"

The human was taken back by the sudden hostility. "I-I'm Doctor Finnigan Tarleton, the ship's head medical professional. You're aboard the _Arc Monitor_ , in the med bay."

" _Arc Monitor_..." she mumbled to herself. The odd voice Captain Olymrius had been talking to mentioned that name. This confirmed where she was, but made her all the more worried on what had happened while she'd been unconscious.

"What happen to the _Fire_ 's crew?" she asked with a bit more calm in her voice.

The human thought about it for a moment. "Well, last I heard they were down in one of the lower brigs. There wasn't many of you so we didn't have to split you up too far apart. I'm not exactly the man you should be asking on this one, though. The Captain is your best bet...if he's even willing to answer that question."

"Well, I think have a right to know where the rest of my crew members are or, at least, to know if they're in danger."

Tarleton sadly shook his head at the sentiment. "I'm afraid not. You're aboard a military vessel which means we operate as one. You have rights and privileges of protection but we can't have prisoners communicating between each other, especially not while we're on voyage."

Siana made to cross her arms but immediately felt a stab of pain from her shoulder. She groaned at the unexpected reminder of her injury.

"Try to keep your arm still for now," Tarleton cautioned with sincere concern, "Your tissue is still healing no matter how much medi-gel we put on it. I'd give you a cast, there just isn't much it would do for a fracture like that."

She gave him a pained nod and lowered her arm back to where it had been. Sighing deeply, she looked back to the doctor. "What military are you part of them?"

"An old one, this ship is anyway. Everyone else here has their story of how they got here. Me and the Captain, along with a good portion of the older fellas on the _Monitor_ , all served together. The younger ones come from all sorts of backgrounds. Ex-mercs, colonists, merchants, miners. We even have a former C-Sec officer from the Presidium if you can believe it."

"So what does that make you then? Pirates? A trade group?"

Tarleton chuckled. "Fortunately, we don't fit either definition. That being said, I'm not at liberty to tell you just who we are. The Captain likes to keep our existence as veiled as possible. Telling anyone, no matter how harmless they may seem, isn't gonna work out for us when they go off and blab about it to someone else. No offense intended of course."

Siana's mandibles flicked in agitation. "If you wanted to not attract attention to yourselves why would you then kidnap the entire crew of a Hierarchy ship? Or by attacking trade out in the Traverse?"

"That isn't my place to answer. I'm just a doctor after all. I leave things like that to the Captain and the boys up on the bridge."

"May I speak with your captain then? It's the least he could do considering the circumstances."

"He was thinking just the same thing," he said with a smile. "Man's been itching to meet with you since he heard that someone on your ship had been injured. It makes him feel like his promise of not harming any of your crew feel hollow and almost like a lie. I can guarantee whoever was operating the magnetic output of the tractor beam is scrubbing the bathrooms with a toothbrush right about now."

"As for seeing him, I'm afraid he's busy at the time being. He no doubt has something special planned to make it up for you and your crew. I know he's soon to meet with your Captain, explaining the situation man to man as any respectable person should. It seems you'll be getting the same treatment."

Tarleton leaned back in his chair and took a sip from a mug that Siana just realized he'd been keeping on the table behind him. "Would you mind if I asked you a question, though? Doctor to patient confidentiality?"

Siana swung her legs around to face him. "Depends on what the question is."

"Nothing too personal, I promise," the doctor replied with his palms raised in assurance. "I noticed that your uniform doesn't quite match up with the rest of your crew. They've got naval outfits while it seems you're wearing something that makes you out to be a doctor of some sort. Though not a medical one from what I presume."

She nodded. "I'm a Hierarchy psychologist actually. I was brought along for their annual screening tests. A slight scheduling error popped up and I opted to come along with them on their scouting mission, instead of waiting for them to come back. They all checked out fine if you're wondering. No mental anomalies in sight."

"That's good to hear. I'm not all that equipped to deal with the psychological side of injuries. I'd offer you the job of helping me in that avenue, but I think I already know your answer."

"Although I appreciate the offer," Siana replied with a polite smile, "I'd like to focus on just getting back to Hierarchy Space for the time being."

The doctor returned the smile. "Well, no sense in not trying. If you said 'yes' I would've recommended a quick X-ray of your head just to make sure you hadn't taken any trauma in the fall. Stockholm Syndrome doesn't set in that quickly unless you're a deserter or have a few bumps on your noggin. And you don't seem like the deserting type."

"Stockholm Syndrome?" Siana repeated as she tilted her head in query. "What's that?"

"It's the old Earth way of describing a kidnapped or captured person getting sympathetic to their captors. It ranges from the rationalization of actions to open support. But there's probably a more medically correct term to put it. I think that clarifies just how much I don't know about all this. I try to stick with the physical and do whatever I can to comfort whoever I needs it. It's not much, but it's something to make people feel better."

Siana found herself smiling at the human's charity. "That's very honorable of you."

He shrugged. "It's what I'm here for. Somebody has to help the depressed and the grieving. There's a lot of pain on the _Arc Monitor_ , not all of it is apparent." The man gave a melancholy sigh and shook his head once again. "But I bet you're wondering what happens from here. How exactly this all going to play out."

"I'll admit; I'm just a little bit bit curious. Are you going to send me down to the brig with everyone else?"

"Not anytime soon. That shoulder of yours needs to be looked after and won't be healed for a little while. I can't in good faith risk that wound from being reopened or from an infection forming. For now, you'll be staying in the med bay until you'll all checked out. When I leave I'll be auto-locking the door behind me as well as the medical cupboards. The room's also got cameras just to make sure you don't try anything."

"So does that mean you don't trust me?"

"Even though you're a psychologist now I assume you started off as a frontline soldier. I remember what they taught us in basic all those years ago and I bet you haven't forgotten either. You never trust a soldier who's got their wits about them."

He straightened himself out his chair and walked to the door. "I'll be back in a few hours. There's some old magazines on the counter if you're interested in month old publications from Elysium. It's about the only entertainment I got."

Siana gave him a smile. "I'll think about it."

 _And how I'm going to get out of here_ she thought to herself.


	5. Hide of Scars

Captain Olymrius was getting nervous. It had been three days since they'd been picked up by the dreadnought _Arc Monitor_ and he still hadn't heard any word about Lieutenant Terso or even that of the rest of his crew. They'd been split up one by one after being boarded, the black hoods the supposed pirates put on them obscuring any sense of where they'd all been sent. Olymrius was oblivious and alone which was making a chance of salvaging the situation all the more difficult.

Now he sat in a cramped brig cell, just as spacious as a standard military vessel's holding facilities and with all the same amenities. There was a toilet, a sink, a cot, and absolutely nothing else. In all his years in the Hierarchy Navy he'd never been issued a demerit, not even a mild disciplinary infraction. So sitting in a tiny room no bigger than a broom closet with nothing but the sight of the sealed door in front of him made him feel like nothing short of a bonafide prisoner.

His Captain's attire was starting to smell from the lack of regular washing and he could tell his body's grease wasn't exactly helping in that regard. It was through his service experience that taking daily showers seemed almost necessary to his survival, not to mention the rush of hot water against his body relieving the tension of long durations on duty.

An empty serving tray sat on the ground beside the door. A handful of scraps still lingered on the plate. At least, they'd given him dextro-amino food. Getting an allergic reaction that might strangle his throat from the inside out would've made the disastrous excursion into the Attican Traverse even worse (if such a thing was even possible at that point).

He assumed that the presence of dextro food wasn't a complimentary treat made specially for his arrival. The presence of other turians onboard was obvious. Past the ones that'd been in the boarding party, he'd heard a few other sub-harmonic voices of his species while being led blindly into the ship.

Olymrius swore that he'd as well heard a few salarian and even quarian voices among the spur of activity he'd walked through with his eyes concealed. If that truly was the case, then just what kind of pirates gang used a Systems Alliance vessel populated by other species? Olymrius wanted answers, and the longer he sat in his cell the less he was going to find out.

Suddenly, a knock came against the door followed by it swishing open. A human in full black combat gear (mask included) poked his head in.

"You have a visitor," the man said. "Captain Larris wishes to speak with you."

Olymrius sprung up from his cot so quickly that the guard winced and seemed to instinctively reach for a stun stick he kept on his belt. Realizing that the action was non-aggressive, he stepped back from the door and pushed it fully open to give him the chance of exiting. As he stepped out of the door's threshold, he could still hear the hum of the guard's electric baton being ignited. The armored human standing a few yards away, gestured to one of the corridors.

His eyes had trouble adjusting to the new light; his cell having a much brighter set of lighting in comparison to the rest of the brig. As his eyes adjusted, however, he began to make out the moderately sized cell block.

The corridor the guard had motioned to, the one in front of him, was much dimmer than the rest of the cramped space, with lights just barely visible from where he was standing. It was only after looking down the dark hallway that he could make out the vague silhouette of a figure standing idly by, facing his direction.

"It's nice that we finally get to meet face to face," said a scratchy, leathery voice from down the corridor. "I apologize for not being able to get around to it sooner."

Olymrius immediately recognized the distinct voice of the one that had spoken to him over transmission, claiming to be the _Monitor_ 's captain. It looked like he hadn't been lying after all.

"I don't really see this as meeting face to face when you're hiding in the dark," he said as he crossed his arms. "But I take it that you're Samuel Larris?"

The figure began to walk towards him, growling at an octave that Olymrius assumed to be a chuckle. "I admire your resistance, Captain. Reminds me that you can still put up a fight without turning violent. A lot of other people in your position would've tried something by now. But it appears you're more civilized than that."

Olymrius could feel a growing discomfort as the figure approached from out of the dark, immediately regretting his goading.

"But I suppose you want some answers," the Captain continued as he approached further. "You out of all people deserve it considering your rank."

He sputtered a response as the figure came closer and closer to him. The heels of his boots thudded ominously against the metal floor.

"I-I, just want to get a general idea of what you're going to, um, do with us. Protecting the safety of my crew is m-my uh, biggest concern."

Another growl. "Very honorable of you, Captain. Although, I do just have one slight request for you."

He was getting closer. "W-What's that?"

"Please don't scream."

The figure finally stepped out of the shadows, revealing a creature's face Olymrius would've sworn had crawled out of the depths of Hell.

It was certainly human alright, at least in shape. Its skin was a fiery shade of blood red, scarred in several places with a hardened rawness to its composure that it nearly made him gag. It lacked a nose, instead replaced with a gaping black hole that sat at the center of the creature's face. It lacked hair on the top of its head or a set of eyebrows that marked most noticeable human facial reactions, leaving Olymrius with nothing to indicate the monster's current state other than its piercing eyes.

Its eyes, in fact, where a milky shade of white that lacked proper irises or retinas, making them

more like blank white orbs that startled Olymrius whenever his gaze met. He could clearly see the vague shape of the creature's skull from the lack of flesh left on its face, with the indentations of the creature's bones clearly seen under its red raw skin. It as well lacked ears or lips which caused the creature's disturbingly white teeth to be strikingly visible and menacing.

It wore a thick black and khaki combat style overcoat, matching pants, and what appeared to be a System's Alliance captain's tunic draped over its back. A long pistol-no-revolver, was tucked into a covert holster on its left side with a majority of the jacket's cloth concealing where the weapon hung. The sleeves of its jacket had been rolled up to forearm length, exposing a layer of crisp white bandages that contrasted greatly with the creature's fiery skin.

Olymrius pinched his mouth shut as he felt the instinctive urge to scream in terror at the monster that had stepped out of the dark and was now staring at him like a walking corpse. His mandibles were flicked open in frozen terror and he attempted to form some sentence to get a hold of himself. Unfortunately, he found that his mouth just couldn't work.

"Thank you for not shrieking," the creature said with sincere gratitude and a slight inclination of its head. "I know I'm not the easiest person to look at, but I feel like there should still be a certain level of respect among people, no matter how any of us look," He growled to himself. "But I bet I'm just another human in your eyes, right? Not much different from the rest of my race...minus the hair of course."

Olymrius had seen enough humans in his lifetime to know that the creature talking to him and who claimed to be one was certainly not the average sort. He could tell immediately that a creature of such grotesque nature couldn't possibly have born in nature, some later experience creating such a masticated demon.

War wounds weren't an oddity to him. Scaring, burnt flesh, missing limbs, all were relatively trivial to him in the long run. But this? A creature so mutilated and deformed but somehow still alive was a miracle only the Spirits could explain. But right now he found that the Captain was staring at him with its lifeless eyes, waiting for some acknowledgement or response from him.

"Y-Yeah," he stammered, "I-I mean, uh, you're definitely, um, n-not super different. But, uh, you've got, um, s-something that-"

The suspected human held up a hand to stop him. "I was only joking, Captain. I have a mirror in my quarters which makes me very well aware of," he motioned to his body, "this. But I'm not here to frighten you with my appearance. I came here to give you answers. You've been kept in the dark longer than I would've liked for you, which makes it seem like I'm trying to take advantage of your compliance. So please, speak your mind, I'm all ears."

"Where's Lieutenant Terso?" Olymrius blurted the first (and probably most important) thing on his mind.

"She's up in the med bay at the moment. That shoulder of hers turned out to be a pretty nasty wound once we took a look at her. We were able to patch it up, and she's recovering at the moment. I'm afraid she won't be able to join your crew in the brig while she heals. Doctor's worried the gash might reopen if it isn't adequately treated."

Olymrius could feel a measure of his composure returning as his sense of duty began to overcome the fear he'd felt. He frowned at the Captain's reasoning while crossing his arms. "So I'm just supposed to take your word for it then?"

The creature spread its bandaged hands. "Have I lied to you yet, Captain?"

"I still have a reason to distrust you considering the circumstances."

"To right you do," the creature point candidly towards him with a touch of impatience. "But in the end, that shouldn't be my highest priority when dealing with prisoners. A typical captain in a typical navy would fulfill the minimum of his responsibilities in keeping you quartered and safe while just leaving it at that. But since this unfortunate scenario is making me look like the aggressor, I have to be a bit more accommodating than what would be acceptable to preserve my integrity as the just party."

"So let me make this clear in saying that we didn't want to capture your crew. It was the only course of action we had other than jeopardizing our plans. Your people shouldn't have been out at a system that remote, making it simply a stroke of bad luck that our two ships crossed paths, landing you where you are now. I'm trying to make the best of what's been handed to me so please excuse if I don't let you take advantage of my hospitality at every avenue."

Olymrius shook his head. "I didn't think pirates even knew the word 'hospitality.'"

The sides of the creature's mouth creased slightly, which he assumed was its way of casting a frown. "Would pirates deliberately capture a military crew? Would pirates freely offer medical attention to someone they knew wouldn't be able to pay them back? Would a pirate captain speak personally with his prisoners?"

"Maybe," the turian pressed stubbornly, "if he knew he could get more money out of it. You treating Lieutenant Terso's wounds could very well be just a cover. If one of us dies, hostage negotiations with the Hierarchy are gonna be a lot trickier and they might just attack you outright if they question whatever honesty you may or may not have."

The creature's mouth creased further. "I'd like to see them try. You probably noticed the large device at our ship's bow while you were being brought in, the circular compression shaped like a dish? Hyper Focused Particle Beam, able to cut through the frame of any ship like gelatin. Very similar design to the ones used in the Reaper War just a few years back. Of course, modified to fit into our preexisting model."

Olymrius shook his head. "You're bluffing. No way you could have salvaged that kind of tech and reverse-engineered it that quickly. Recreating machinery of that size would have taken you decades to accommodate to a ship of sentient design. You probably have a particle beam stowed away but nothing that could cut through a vessel with mass effect field shielding. You'd just be wasting your time."

"We'll see, Captain Olymrius. I can understand if the situation is a bit unbelievable but in time you'll understand what I've told you. The Hierarchy and the rest of the Council races may think that their fleets are impenetrable goliaths. Soon they'll see just how easy it is for their perceived security to come crashing down around them."

"Sounds like you have something against the Council," Olymrius noted.

"Only some of them, but they're all responsible in their own ways. For now, I know who our definite targets will be. I'm not going to be shooting for unnecessary bloodshed, no pun intended."

"So is that what this all about then? This is just a big quest of revenge against the Hierarchy for something the Council did?"

The monster's mouth stretched to both sides while barring its teeth, alluding to a smile. "I'm not that predictable, Captain. Anybody who's driven for the sole reason of revenge is practically asking to end up on the losing side. It's immature and shortsighted to go into life with that mindset and I'm very grateful that I'm not that kind of person to get involved with such things."

"Then what were you trying to do by attacking the Hierarchy?" the turian pressed. "This isn't making any sense."

"Trust me, Captain. You'll find out soon enough." The creature bowed his head to Olymrius. "It was enjoyable talking to you, Captain. But as of now I have other matters to attend. Hopefully, we will be able to see each other once again under less official standings." He turned to leave, slipping off into the corridor's shadows without another word.


	6. Ghost Ship

"There she is," Cole remarked as he pointed out the viewscreen glass. "Uhlan Station dead ahead."

The old military station was of an unusual design, to say the least. It was shaped like a curved trapezoid, with a widening base that sloped outwards the further down it went. Near the bottom were several entry points that had once served as docking bays for larger Alliance vessels. Smaller ones were sent to the several extended receiving arms that poked out from the station along several random points.

Protruding stiffly, the arms almost looked like steel pincushions in the station's hull, whereas in reality they served as a much quicker alternative for ship's that didn't need a hangar's berth to dock. Officers had no doubt used the arms for their own business, and more than likely political officials and civies visiting the backwater station during its brief heyday.

The XR28 Light Shuttle approached the moderately sized space station at an increasingly slowed space. The turian vessel was subtle for its size but not subtle enough if it came crashing in against the outer frame of the decommissioned installation. Instead, it maneuvered itself into a vertical slate position until stopping at the umbilical receiver of the arm.

Ardarius looked to Cole as he moved the ship into an eventual halt, the magnetic seal of the vessel against the arm's entry point jostling the cabin slightly as they locked in place.

"Could you open up a technical readout of the station?" he asked. "It would be good to find the closest route to wherever we need to go."

"Got it," the human said as he clicked the compact memory stick from earlier into his omni-tool. He began to scroll rapidly through several lines of files and digital layouts of similarly designed stations. He muttered to himself as he searched for whatever was being looked for, his eyes darting from side to side as he scanned the seemingly endless scrolls of data.

Eventually, however, he stopped at a particular layout and tapped on the holographic apparition to enhance it. He examined it for a brief moment and zoomed the projection in for closer inspection.

"It looks like the central administration level is just over there," he pointed outside, near the top of the station. "That's where we should be going. The station's mainframe should be situated inside unless it was stripped out doing decommissioning, which I highly doubt. Those dinosaurs were so big I bet nobody even bothered to do anything past wiping passwords."

"And we won't be needing any right?" Ardarius pressed. "Coming all this way only to find out we need a retired admiral's password wouldn't make all that good use of our time."

The human grinned while tapping the memory stick still clicked into his wrist. "Got it all in here. By the way, could you do a quick scan of the station just to see how well it's fairing? There's no telling how much damage this place has taken over the decades."

Ardarius nodded and did just that. It took awhile for the modern Hierarchy hardware to acquaint itself with the outdated Alliance system that the station had once run on. After a few minutes, a brief readout pinged up from the console.

"It looks like the station still has power in most essential areas, but just about all of it is the emergency. Elevators and life support systems appear to still be running but...oh, great."

"What's the matter?"

"I'm detecting some hull breaches in certain sections of the station, a handful of which are close to the upper areas."

"Right where we need to be," Cole concluded. "Is the administration level still intact or are there breaches in there too?"

"It's not reporting any. We may just have to make a few detours on our way up."

The human nodded. "That shouldn't be much of a problem. We're not too pressed for time anyway." He stood up and began towards the cockpit door. "I need to grab something from my bag. I'll be right back."

Ardarius straightened himself out of his seat and followed after him. "Alright. I'll be waiting by the airlock when you're ready."

Cole strolled past him and into the crew quarters the two shared. Ardarius had taken up a cot opposite in the room from where he was sleeping, giving a much appreciated personal space boundary between the two.

The human's satchel sat atop the army style footlocker at the edge of his bed. He rifled through it and pulled out a simple white pill bottle. Not waiting a moment, a strolled back out into the ship's center atrium while shutting the door behind him.

Ardarius stood by the ship's airlock, has pistol grasped in both hands as he inspected it for any anomalies. "That was fast," he remarked while keeping his eyes on the weapon's assessment.

"Just needed to get this," he brandished bottle. "Can never be too safe, right?"

The turian holstered his weapon and took a few steps toward him to get a better perspective of the unmarked cylinder. "What the heck are those?"

"Anti-radiation pills," he said while unscrewing the cap and popping two into his mouth. "Supposed to give the body extra protection from residual doses." He offered the bottle to him. "You want some?"

Ardarius looked like he was joking. "Unless you want me to die of a spontaneous allergic reaction, I think I'll pass.'

Cole rolled his eyes. "It's not levo or dextro-based food. It's not even food to begin with. These little ditties contain a bunch of metallic alloys that work their way into your blood and give you a better chance against malignant or benign tumors from forming. You're eating metal when you take one of these. And last time I checked, metal doesn't have amino acids in its makeup."

Ardarius didn't look entirely convinced but still held out his hand reluctantly. Even in the current era of fantastical medical breakthroughs and almost guaranteed assurance of a life expectancy exceeding one-hundred years, diseases always found a way to do what they did best. He wasn't one for taking blatant chances in the line of duty, especially when a safe alternative was offered to him.

"Okay, fine. I'll take some."

The human poured two greyish-white tablets into his palm. With mild hesitance, he downed the pills and quietly prayed to the Spirits that the human wasn't bluffing about the pill's integrity.

"You ready then?"

He nodded, grimacing at the pills' taste. "Yep."

Cole reached for the airlock's center release switch and flicked it without a second thought. The door swished open, leading them into the median chamber between their ship and the station's receiving arm. The two stepped through it, both consciously aware that the pale vacuum of space was just a few inches away from where they stood. They opened the receiving door to the station with a little more haste.

They stepped through the median's threshold and into the station, both walking side by side and examining the new environment they found themselves in. It was a simple corridor that led into the larger whole of the station but despite that, they were given a clear scope on just how well Uhlan Station was fairing.

Low blue emergency lights lit the hexagonal hallway, painting the cold interior with a light that was just above a shadow. Even in the darkness, Ardarius could still see the layers of decay that formed along the metal paneling of the floors and the blunt edges of the bulkhead. Rust was beginning to take hold as well as some discolored slime that lodged itself in any available crack or crevice.

The air held a dry mustiness to it, like an old blanket had been tossed over his head whenever he attempted to take a breath. He coughed to get the bad taste out of his mouth but noticed that white tuffs of fog wisped out of his mouth as he did so. A cold chill careened up his torso, and he found himself suddenly shivering at the unexpected frostiness.

"Looks like the life support system has taken a turn for the worse," Cole remarked with a glance around the space. "Bad air and lack of heat. Not my favorite combination."

"Should we be worried?" Ardarius said through shivers.

"I don't think so. What we're breathing right now is just stagnant air that's been continuously recycled for decades. It doesn't taste very good, but I don't think the heavy moisture should be toxic."

"Do you have an idea of where we're going then?"

Cole tapped his omni-tool, and the holographic readout of the facility appeared once again. "I do now."

* * *

The actual interior of Uhlan Station hadn't fared much better than its docking arms. It was practically pitch black as they walked through the derelict halls, the frequent observation windows in the hallways illuminating their way much better than the emergency lights ever could.

More than once they nearly slipped in the bits of slime that had formed between particular floor panels. They later discovered that several cracked water pipes had and still did leak onto the ground, providing an excellent source to the traction-killing slime. On top of that, bits of ancient trash from the decommissioning crew still lied on the floor creating a second idle hazard to their simple trek through the catacomb of a station.

At one point, Cole stepped right on the mummified carcass of a dead rat, prompting him to jolt backward in surprise.

"Relax," Ardarius assured him with a grin, "at least, it wasn't moving."

They eventually reached a large hermetically sealed door that blocked their way ahead. It appeared much more orderly in makeup, lacking the characteristic filth that was a frequent sight across the rest of the base. There wasn't any indicator on the central panel to deactivate the door or as to where it had been triggered from in the first place.

Ardarius tapped his hand against it. "Looks like the way up ahead was zoned off before we got here. Must be a hull breach on the other side."

"Which is right where we need to go," Cole said with aggravated sigh. "I can't believe this; the administration level is literally just a few corridors down from here."

"We'll have to take a different route then. Can you find another way on the readout?"

The human tapped a few commands into his omni-tool. "We'd have to take one of the elevators down to the maintenance level and then another all the way back up. We'd be going through the utility repairs section and looping back around. From there we'll have a straight shot to the administration level."

Ardarius began back down the way they came. "C'mon then, I remember seeing a lift a few halls back."

They maneuvered down the same set of halls before reaching a dual set of elevators. The first didn't give an indication from its ticker or the inner mechanisms behind the protected divider. The other one opened immediately upon being hailed. A few moments later, the paneled doors clanked shut behind them, and the minuscule metal box began to descend.

It was silent between them for a long while in the cramped space, neither saying a word as the haggard elevator's indicator gave hint that they were nowhere close to the maintenance level yet.

"Looks like we're in for a trip," Ardarius remarked with a nod to the indicator. "Let's just hope we get there before the end of this century."

Cole smirked. "Are you doubting the structural integrity of crumbling human space engineering?"

"Maybe."

"Then I'd say you're a very smart man. We're lucky there's still enough power left in the facility to even get us there in the first place. If not...we're gonna be in for a very long ladder climb down."

Ardarius chuckled. "I'm pretty sure it'd be quicker just for us to do that thing in the vids. You know, when they shoot out the counterweights, and it sends them flying?"

"Pretty sure that only takes a person up. For our purposes, we'd need a convenient and affordable way of getting down." The human mock pondered this for a moment and nodded to himself. "I'll jump first."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," Ardarius replied as he reached up and yanked at the emergency grate atop the elevator's ceiling. "Looks like the hatch is rusted shut. If this dies on us, we're gonna have one hell of a time getting out of this thing."

"Don't worry, I have a welding modification on my omni-tool. The battery would be sucked dry, but I bet we could get it open...eventually."

The turian grinned. "Are you always this prepared or this just a special occasion?"

Cole looked flattered at the sentiment and beamed accordingly. "'Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it' is what I've always said."

"Great, another one of humanity's patented single sentence insightfulness. Please, tell me more about the robust correlation between house guests and rotten fish."

The human gave an exaggerated scoff. "You're just jealous you didn't come up with it first."

"Of course I am."

They rode in silence for a few more minutes as the elevator's exterior motors groaned and whined under their weight. The carriage stopped a few times as the wiring shorted out for a moment but was able to lapse back after a few seconds. It was at the fourth time of this happening that Cole turned to Ardarius with a look of worry in his eyes.

"You know, something terrible just came to mind."

"What's that?"

"What if we're not the only people here? What if somebody else arrived before us and know that we're walking around the base? Criminals or just any band of punks in Alliance Space love these decommissioned stations. They're fortified, easy to hide in, and are generally left alone by anyone with half a brain between their ears."

Ardarius merely shrugged. "Than we do what we have to do. Make it clear that we're here on an investigation and let them make the next move. If they start shooting, then we'll shoot back. I'm not one for useless violence, but we can't be held responsible if they're the ones playing the aggressors. We're servants of our governments, not cannon fodder."

Cole nodded, some of his nerves sated. "I guess that's the best we can-" the elevator lapsed for a moment and then resumed its ascent, "-do."

After what felt like an eternity, the elevator finally reached their destination, the slit doors before them rattling open at a pace that would've better suited a trash compactor.

"Looks like this our stop," Ardarius observed, unholstering his pistol and cocking the hammer back.

The human grinned. "A little bit cautious there, hmm?"

"Let's just say you inspired me a bit."

 **I really should have gotten around to saying this sooner but THANK YOU guys for the awesome support you've given as this story has progressed. I'm really happy I've been able to continue with it for you guys and can't wait to write more. Every one of you are amazing, amazing people. God Bless.**


	7. Outgunned

The maintenance level was worse off than the rest of the station they'd trekked through. The abundance of heavy machinery and central wiring made the much more spacious corridors a mess of gutted debris and miscellaneous junk.

The metal paneling on the ceiling was falling apart, exposing loose rungs of wires that hung down like jungle vines. Once critical parts that had fallen out of the overhead areas provided even more opportunities of things to trip over and Cole swore he stepped in at least two other rat carcasses as they followed the map on his wrist.

It was as they were walking down another curving hallway, coming up to a closed but still operational service door, that Ardarius reached out and grabbed at the human's shoulder to stop him.

"Did you just hear that?" he said in a hushed voice as his ears trained ahead.

"Hear what?" Cole responded in a panicked whisper, looking instinctively behind them.

Ardarius tapped on his shoulder and pointed to the door. "It's something over there, in the other room. Can't you hear it?"

Cole tilted his head towards the sound for a moment and found the color slowly drain from his face. Ardarius, seeing the human's flagrant shock, merely nodded. "Looks like we have company."

"What should we do?"

"Can you find an alternative route from here."

Cole fiddled with the omni-tool's map for a few seconds and sadly shook his head. "This is the only way that leads back up to administration. Either we go through here, or we don't go at all."

"Then that's what we have to do. Follow my lead and stay out of sight. We don't know who we're dealing with here."

Ardarius evened himself into a crouch, Cole doing the same. They crept forward softly until reaching the front of the door. The noise was much clearer now, methodical and flat but not clairvoyant as to who or what was making it. He made a gesture of his hand to the door's terminal, signaling that he was about to ping it open. Cole nodded in understanding.

The door slid open with the slight grinding of metal against metal as each opposing surface folded across one another. They were in a shipping room of some sort, suspended storage containers hung from the ceiling upon rusting racks.

The door revealed that the two were situated on a balcony, a guardrailed perimeter that appeared to serve as a crossing point between the room and several other facilities on that particular level.

It was open air, so they could clearly see the cluttered shipping floor that had gone silent decades before and was instead overflowing with piles of empty containers. The lighting was much more astute than anywhere else in the facility. Bright blue lights shimmered from several industrial fixations on the chamber's sides, the contrast blinding the two agents momentarily.

What was most striking about the room through were the individuals situated just two stories below the balcony on the shipping floor itself. They wore heavy sets of combat armor, rivaling that of most Council races with assault weaponry that spoke of both money and influence. They were of a multitude of races, primarily human, batarian, and turian, all adorned with a bright blue tint across their protective attire with a distinct white circle etched onto their chest plates. The two cursed in unison.

"Those are Blue Suns," Ardarius stated at a fierce whisper. "Why the hell are they here?"

"This must be one of their hideaways. Probably gives them a nice staging ground for any contracts in nearby systems. How do you want to go at this?"

Ardarius looked out around the doorway's corner and spotted a corridor at the far edge of the platform, just past where its overlook with the rest of the open chamber ended. He as well caught glimpse of several storage crates sitting just a few meters away from where they crouched, haphazardly placed at varying angles and distances from one another. He suddenly had an idea.

"If we stay in cover behind those crates we should be able to slip by without them seeing us. Will the hallway at the end of this section lead to the elevators?"

Cole nodded. "Not very far from it either."

"Alright then. Let's move."

Ardarius passed the threshold first, keeping a hunched gaunt as he propped himself behind the nearest set of crates. Cole followed suit, sliding into place beside him without a sound. The human craned his neck over the unit for a brief moment and brought it back down again.

The mercenaries didn't seem all that concerned about whatever was going on around them. They were preoccupied with their personal tasks of eating, playing cards, smoking or drinking. They made casual conversation with each other while a majority of them didn't even have their weapons at the ready, most keeping them slung over their shoulders in a state of passive readiness.

If anything did go down, however, they'd still be quick to mobilize. While Cole had never lived the military life, he was still aware of just how prepared a seasoned trooper could be, whether they were one of valor or fortune.

The turian tapped on his shoulder again and spoke at even lower whisper than before. "I'm moving up to the next set of crates." He evened himself back into his hunch and made his way to a further set of cover. Cole followed after him, again sliding into cover beside his counterpart.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Ardarius asked in hushed curiosity.

"I'll tell you later."

They were getting closer to the next corridor now, one more set of crates before they could make their dash to safety. Ardarius locked eyes with him and motioned with his head that he was about to get moving. He waited a few extra moments before he started running.

Cole was just about to take his first step after him when he was alerted to something in his proximity. Spinning his head around while remaining crouched, his gaze met with that of a Blue Sun merc.

It was a male batarian, standing just a few feet away from him, looking at him in mute shock as the both of them realized just what was happening. The merc's set of four eyes looked to him for half of a second, then out at the collective of his comrades that hadn't yet noticed the uninvited guest in their den.

A flicker of thought moved in the merc's features, and he made a slight inclination of its head toward the larger group, tilting its neck slightly to get a better perspective of everything in the room.

Ardarius jumped at the sudden gunshot that rang out, turning to see Cole standing upright a few meters away; a smoking pistol clutched in his outstretched arm and the bleeding corpse of a batarian merc lying at the human's feet. A grim expression was written across his face, almost as if a shadow had come across it.

He rose up slightly from his position to call out to Cole, but his words were taken away by the chorus of panicked shouting coming from the floor below. A few seconds later, the overlook began to be sprayed by gunfire.

"Let's get outta here!" Ardarius could scarcely hear the human shout as he took off at a sprint towards the room's exit, the floor and wall paneling coursing with the impacts of bullet after bullet. The sound of ricocheting metal filled Ardarius's stunned ears as he hopped up and trailed after Cole, making it into the safety of the enclosed corridor.

"What the hell did you do!?" He shouted in frustration at the human as they dashed down the hall.

"The bastard snuck up on me," the human shot back with his own touch of anger, sensing the blaming tone in Ardarius's words.

"Well, now all his friends know we're here, so I hope it was worth it. How much closer until we get to the elevator?"

Cole skidded to a stop in front of a telltale set of rusted slit doors and slammed his fist against the hailing button. The chatter of gunfire was getting closer as they waited for the lift to arrive. The enraged chorus of Blue Suns mercs sounded out at a closing pace, their advance a lot quicker than either agent could have ever anticipated.

Eventually, the lift finally arrived, and the two practically threw themselves inside, Cole punching the administration level button just as the vague outline of a merc appeared between the closing elevator doors. Within moments, they could feel the upward ascent of the cabin pull against them slightly, signaling that they were safe.

"That...was too close," Ardarius said behind panted breaths, "a few more seconds and we'd both be dead. What were you thinking, shooting a merc like that? You almost got us killed!"

"The bastard snuck up on me," Cole repeated crossly, "he didn't give me much of a chance to talk it over with him."

The turian's eyes narrowed. "And so you just shot him without a second thought? You could've shown your badge and made it clear we weren't here for them.

"I'm sorry that it didn't occur to me in the split second that it happened. Now if you want to argue about this later, that's fine with me. But for now we have more pressing matters to deal with, wouldn't you agree?"

"Fine, but we're talking about this later, whether you want to or not."

The human grunted a reply that could've meant just about anything and looked to the elevator's indicator on just where they were. "We're getting close to administration by the way. Sounds like this one's faster than the one that brought us down."

"I hope that means you have a plan?"

"What do you mean?"

Ardarius sighed. "What I mean is that once we step out of this elevator, the mercs downstairs are going to hail it down and bring it back up here to have their way with us. There's no way we could hold up against the armaments or numbers they have, and this elevator is are only way of getting back down to the ship. Unless you want to take a quick stroll through the vacuum."

"You're making this out to be like we're trapped," the human said as he crossed his arms. "There's gotta be something we can do."

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"Well...there might be an exit up on administration. Maybe the Blue Suns have weapons stashed up there, or maybe there's an air vent we can escape through. This can't be a dead end for us."

The elevator doors swished open, and the two stepped out. Almost immediately, the slit doors closed behind them, and the elevator descended back down to where it'd initially been.

"There, that should give us a few minutes;" Cole pointed out. "We better think of something fast."

There wasn't much either of them could work with in the administration room. It was a pristine display of old computer nodes and terminals sitting at what had once been crew work stations. There wasn't any of the distinct industrial leftovers or prominent decay from the rest of the facility that would've given them something creative to work with, just a door on the room's left and right side, one of which was sealed shut.

There was an almost panoramic viewscreen offering a fantastic view of the outer station at the room's front center, with several large computer terminals sitting by it that appeared in much better shape than the other smaller sets in the room. Cole walked over to one and switched its power button on. To both of their surprise, the machine booted up.

"Oh my God," Cole exclaimed, "look at this monitor's resolution! It's horrible."

Ardarius rolled his eyes. "Yeah...but is there anything you can do with it? Any way to stop the elevator or activate some kind of security system remotely?"

Cole shook his head as he began to type a few commands into the computer. "Doesn't appear I can do that. But it looks like this terminal is still linked in with a few of the systems on this level."

"Such as?"

"Well, for one, I can override the automatic sealing measures for hull breaches."

"Why would anyone ever want to do that?"

The human shrugged. "Maybe for recovery teams if they needed help getting rescued? Either way, we can finally get that sealed door from earlier open." He pointed to the blocked entrance at the room's left side. "It's just through there."

"I think you're forgetting the fact that neither of us have space suits. We'd be dead in seconds if you opened up the breach."

"You're right, but perhaps if there was..." he clicked in a few commands, and the room's other door slid open, revealing a cramped passageway that receded into darkness after just a few feet.

Ardarius's mandibles flicked in confusion. "What did you just open?"

"That's where the central hardware systems are stored. Basically, the entire station's mainframe jammed into a single room. Other than that though there's not much else I can do from this terminal."

It was at that moment that the rumbling of the elevator began to sound out, giving the hint that the Blue Suns were only a few floors away.

"We don't have much time left," Ardarius declared as he strutted over to the now open mainframe room. "We'll have to hide in here."

Cole walked over to him and gave the cramped, cluttered, and dark space a once-over. It was barely the size of a closet and was even less insulated as the rest of station, making the wires and systems inside practically frozen from lack of use. "It doesn't look too comfy."

"That isn't a luxury we have right now. Either we get inside or explain to a pack of hired guns why we shot one of their buddies."

"Good point," Cole replied as he poked his head inside.

The rumbling of the elevator suddenly ceased, followed by the clamoring swish of its doors opening. Ardarius instinctively tackled the unsuspecting Cole from behind, knocking both of them into the pitch black room while pinging the door shut behind him.

"Get off me!" the human demanded at an exasperated hiss.

"You weren't moving," Ardarius reasoned as he pushed himself off of the human, hitting his head on something he couldn't see.

He was quick to find out that neither of them could stand in the minuscule space and were instead forced to kneel side by side. On the other side of the door, they could hear several sets of boots clicking against the metallic floor, faceless voices speaking lowly to one another. The Blue Suns were no doubt scanning the room for them. It wouldn't be long before one of them sprouted a brain and would think to check in the mainframe room.

"What do we do now?" Cole whispered just a foot away from his fringe. "We can't stay in here forever."

"Open your omni-tool for a sec," Ardarius said as something wonderful suddenly came to mind. "I have a plan."


	8. How Little We Know

Macek Chasin scanned the circular administration chamber with all four of his beady, amber eyes, carefully watching his colleagues as they moved about the room, turning over ancient terminals and knocking down worktables that hadn't been touched for decades.

A resolute silence was kept between the group of Blue Suns troopers under his command, showing that he was able to instill _some_ discipline into the assorted bunch.

He'd been working for the mercenary company for well over fifteen years and had dealt with his fair share of unsuspected scenarios. But never had he run across anyone stupid enough to wander into a merc hideout and start shooting blindly. Although he hadn't gotten a good look, it was clear that whoever had prowled aboard the derelict station wasn't taking all that many chances past shooting first and bolting. They were hiding somewhere in the room, and he would find them.

The man they'd lost, a young batarian named Belkin, wasn't exactly all that vital to the ten or so of them who'd taken up residence in the decommissioned Alliance base. But the fact that he was now one man less meant he'd have to send a transmission to Central Command requesting a replacement.

Not only that, getting the blood off and repairing the scorched armor would as well take up time that he'd prefer spending doing other things. For now, he'd try to focus his attention on the present and worry about the irritating future when it was convenient for him.

"You idiots find anything?" he barked to no one in particular.

"Nothing yet, sir," a male human with his face obscured by a combat mask called back to him.

He scowled at the answer he knew he'd get. "Well keep looking. No one's gonna leave this room until we find the son of a bitch who think he can mess with us."

Macek stepped away from the elevator doors he'd been standing by and swiveled his head around to get a better perspective of the room. The circular chamber didn't have all that many furnishings and only had two other sets of doors excluding the elevator they'd come up in.

He squinted from where he stood, noticing that one of them appeared to be sealed off by the station's automated breach countermeasures. The other door, a much smaller one near the central computers at the front of the room, remained shut.

"Did anyone search over there?" Macek demanded as he pointed to the general area.

"No sir," a female turian replied just a few yards away.

He was on the cusp of exploding at the ludicrous statement of nobody checking such an obvious spot, but decided against it. In all honestly, the door was fairly well obscured by the ancient computers that lined the front walls and searching the wider perimeter did lessen the opportunity for another possible ambush from occurring.

Either way, Macek decided that he'd give whatever was behind the door a quick once over himself instead of just ordering one of the members of his team to do it. He couldn't be a jerk every waking minute after all.

It was as he began to step towards it that he heard the rumbling groan of something large and cumbersome start to move. His head instinctively snapped towards wherever the sound was coming from, but it was in an instant that he felt thrown into the air by an invisible force and yanked abrasively towards one edge of the room. He tried to grab against the floor but found his head smash against it instead, his body going limp as it was sucked away without resistance.

Seconds later, Macek and everyone else in the room was dead, and absolutely no one had the time to to figure out just how it had happened.

* * *

The two agents stepped out of the cramped space. An eerie silence had been cast over the room now that they were once again alone.

"That was a pretty crafty trick," Cole graduated Ardarius with a smile, "overriding the breach countermeasures. Let's just hope none of them were wearing space suits."

Ardarius looked flattered at the compliment but only shrugged. "I doubt any of them were. They must've been pretty confident in the station's condition if they didn't have at least some backup respirator or enviro-suit on hand."

"So you _do_ trust the integrity of crumbling human space engineering. I knew you were holding out on me."

"Maybe I do," he chuckled. "But how about we download that data and get back to the ship? This place hasn't exactly been accommodating, and I don't want to find out if there's anyone else roaming these halls."

Cole gave a nod and strolled over to the terminal he'd left on from earlier, plugging the memory stick into the bulky machine's side. Within moments, his fingers were already clicking away at line after line of assorted files.

"Sounds like a plan then," he replied while keeping his eyes focused on the screen. "But I take it you'll want to examine whatever we find back on the ship instead of here?"

"I'd prefer that, yes."

"Then I guess we better get going," the human said as he promptly disconnected the device.

Ardarius's eyes widened. "That was fast."

"I try to be. But, in all honesty, this little storage unit is like a sponge when it comes to copying and pasting files. I just hope they'll be something useful on this. I'm not sure if we'll have any other leads if this doesn't work."

"It'll work," Ardarius reassured, "it has to."

Back on the ship, the two agents stood in the center atrium by the large circular display projector. The device matched the interior color scheme of cohesive muted beige but had a slick black top bordered along its center. It was about the size of a standard dinner table and had a small terminal port on its side.

At the current moment, Cole was down on his knees fiddling with it while Ardarius stood across from him with concerned eyes.

"I hope you're not breaking anything," he said as he looked over at the human's gradual dissection of the palm-sized electronic panel. "This is agency property after all."

Cole poked his head up to reply. "I'm not breaking anything, just modifying. I should've expected Hierarchy Intelligence's standard vessels not to have ports for Alliance memory sticks. And of course, I forgot to bring my converter with me before I left Washington."

"And you're sure you can make the proper adjustments to the computer?"

The human put his head back down. "Well if I just connect this wire...here. And move this cooling fan...over there. It should be enough to-got it!"

Cole proudly reached over to the partially stripped terminal panel and pinged the device on. Ardarius watched the machine closely just in case it wouldn explode in his face from whatever Cole had done to it. He'd make sure to have him put the projector back to how it was before once they returned to Palaven. He wouldn't hear the end of it from Tris if he came back with one of the requisitioned vessels damaged in any way, shape, or form.

Fortunately, the terminal appeared to be functioning properly as the initial boot up sequence went without a hitch. He could see that Cole was equally impressed with his handiwork, perhaps second guessing just how thorough of a job he'd done.

The human opened his omni-tool and began to punch in a few commands, looking up from the device a handful of times until a large holographic display popped up on the projector's top. The visualized object was the standard orange hue that almost every holographic interface materialized in, with a sharp resolution and very minimal interference in the displayed light particles.

Ardarius stared at the image that was being projected, not quite sure what to think of it.

"What is that?" he asked Cole with a gesture up at the strange projection hovering in midair.

"It's a ship, can't you tell?"

Ardarius could tell it was a vessel, just never one he'd seen before. It was of definite human design, boxy and symmetrical with an almost unimaginative symmetry to it. The large assortment of guns along its sides, top, and underbelly pointed it to being a warship of some sort, more than likely a dreadnought as evidenced by the mass driver mounted along its top.

However, this one looked quite different from the Alliance Naval vessels he'd seen in vids and in person. It was much more jagged, compressed slightly, and with a massive cannon mounted below the ship, forming a pointed crest in the vessel's center that made the its bow almost menacing to look at, like the outer ship edifices that had once been used in Palaven's naval battles millenniums ago.

"That's not a ship I've ever seen," he admitted. "What is it?"

"What we're looking at is the _SSV Luptuse_ , a destroyer so big and obtuse it didn't fit into any official ship classification before it. Constructed in 2155 at the Portsmouth Royal Dockyard and was primarily funded and crewed by a joint Anglo-American alliance. Uhlan Station only had one docked instance of the ship passing through. Records indicate that it was for some kind of crew transfer, possibly a restructuring of who'd been on the vessel when it was first launched from Earth."

Ardarius flicked a mandible in query. "Is that a common thing for the Alliance?"

"No, it's not. In fact, I've never even heard of this many crewmen being reassigned all at once, especially some of the higher ranking officers listed on the ledger."

"How many were reassigned?"

Cole scrolled through his omni-tool's display and gasped at what he saw. "Anybody past lieutenant was shipped off to a different stationing! Just about their entire officer's corp was gutted and replaced with other enlistments."

"Did they have the ship's captain on file?"

He nodded and punched a command into the device. The 3D image suddenly transformed into a two-dimensional dossier picture of an Alliance officer.

It was a man, swarthy by the shading of the holographic image, with a bony face and finely groomed mustache on the upper edge of his lip. The man in the picture looked toward the camera with a dignified arrogance, a haughtiness in the eyes that spoke of both privilege and perceived authority.

"He looks like an ass," the turian pointed out flatly. "Was he the original captain?"

"No, it says here he was the replacement. I can't seem to find any mention of who the original one was. The man we're looking at is Alliance Naval Captain Alfonso Vasquez. He was from a wealthy family back on Earth with holdings in several business ventures, everything from mining to electronic entertainment. He had other relatives serving in the Alliance, one of which was even on the Admiralty Board. He entered officer's academy when he was eighteen, graduated a few years later with the rank of...sub-lieutenant?"

Ardarius rolled his eyes. "I assume that's not standard procedure either?"

Cole shook his head. "No, it's downright ridiculous. This guy practically got carried through the system like merit didn't even matter, like he was part of an aristocracy or something."

Nepotism was something that just about every species suffered from in higher positions of power, and Ardarius would be lying if he said that the Hierarchy didn't suffer from it as well. Family connections and wealth could make anyone go as far as common sense would allow it. But then again, history was full of incompetent and inexperienced rulers leading their people to ruin. What was most disheartening about this was that it even after thousands of years of this occurring across the galaxy, nobody seemed in any hurry to correct such an age-old mistake.

"What else can you tell about the ship?"

A command was tapped once again and the holographic image of the _Luptuse_ returned. "Well, despite its weird design it had the primary armaments of a dreadnought. The mass driver was of course on top of the ship while the smaller guns and lasers were mounted on the sides."

Ardarius gestured to the massive cannon below the ship. "And this?"

"That's a..." Cole's voice trailed off as lines of data began to scroll across his holographic screen. He squinted at the displayed info on his omni-tool and tapped in separate commands to the device to make sure he wasn't experiencing some kind of glitch or corrupted algorithm within its systems.

Fortunately for Ardarius, he could read the entire situation just by looking at the human's face. "I have a feeling we have another problem on our hands."

"The data's locking me out," he said while ignoring the turian's comment. "It's saying I need an encryption key to view those files."

Ardarius shrugged. "Doesn't Naval Intelligence have access to Alliance encryptions? Try one of those."

"I am, but it's still not letting me view past the first page of records. It keeps on saying 'Proper Clearance Required,' as if I'm not using the correct codes."

"And you're sure you're using the right set?"

"I would hope I am. Unless they've changed our universal encryption coding in the past day. These things are supposed to be a skeleton key when it comes to electronic files. Everything compiled since the formation of the Alliance should be accessible with these. But for some reason, this single section of information out of an entire station's records requires a different set."

Ardarius's eyes narrowed. "Sounds like somebody at Uhlan wanted to keep something about the _Luptuse_ under wraps."

Cole raised a queried eyebrow. "You think the Alliance has something to do with this?"

"I think there's more to this than meets the eye. An entire military ship's records don't get locked out unless there's something that military wants to be kept secret. I wouldn't be surprised if somebody in the Alliance is behind it."

He could sense the disbelief in the human's initial expression and didn't blame him for it. If someone had proposed that the Hierarchy's shadowy intrigues were intruding on one of his missions, he'd as well be slow to accept the fact. An agent always wanted to believe that they truly were aware of what needed to be known and that their respective government wouldn't be leaving them out of whatever had occurred away from the public view.

In the end, though, intelligence work functioned off a pyramid of sorts. The higher you ranked, the more you knew and vice versa. Agents of the same organization operated under each other's noses all the time, with most unaware of it to begin with. This intersecting web of unsuspecting information was what kept all the civilized races in the position they wanted to be, whether their citizens realized it or not."

"I don't know about that;" Cole managed with a look away, leaving the topic to fester.

"Whether they're involved or not is something we can figure out later," the turian pressed. "For now, I think we should get back to Palaven and show Septimus everything that we've found. From there maybe you could forward the locked data back to ANI and have them take a look at it. We have secure channels at HQ."

 _Secure channels that we'll be tapping_ he thought to himself and no doubt the human did the same.

Cole closed the projected screen and expertly removed the memory stick from the jury-rigged receiving port. "Alright, that sounds like a plan. Do you need anything else from me?"

"Yes." He motioned to the mangled guts of the terminal that still strewed the floor. "Just one request."


	9. A Different Kind of Prison

For several days Siana did nothing but bide her time in the _Arc Monitor_ 's med bay, locked away in the same operating room where she'd first woken on the ship. Her days consisted primarily of rereading the old magazines Doctor Tarleton had brought in for her and attempting to rest. On a daily basis, the old man would routinely come to check on the progress of her shoulder wound and try to be as friendly as he could.

She began to enjoy the kind human's company and the conversations they held as he reapplied new bandages on her. Speaking with him was certainly the highlight of her time on the ship, past the meals that were delivered to her by a service mech. She'd tried to get the machine to hold some constructive speaking pattern but found the thing was practically mute when it came to topics that didn't deal with medical matters. She was thankful the Doctor wasn't the same.

At the current moment, she sat idly on the operating table/bed she'd been using. The entire room's lights had been turned on, showing the sterile white chamber in all its dull glory. She was reading a periodical about homes and gardens made better when she heard the door swish open, and Doctor Tarleton step inside holding a medical bag in one hand.

"How're you holding up?" was his standard, warm-faced greeting as the door closed behind him.

She was about to instinctively shrug but caught herself just before he muscles obeyed. She'd already made that mistake the second day they'd spoken and was in no mood to repeat it. Instead, she made a shaky motion with her hand. "I'm okay. It's starting to feel a little irritated, but I'm pretty sure that means it's healing."

The Doctor nodded as he sat down beside her, opening up his leather bag and pulling out a set of bandage dressing and a small pair of scissors. "That's _exactly_ what it means. Although I wouldn't say we should take that as a sign to remove the bandages yet. You'll need at least another few weeks to make sure everything holds together."

He began to gradually unwrap the dressing he'd applied the prior day while using the small pair of scissors to hasten his work. Siana watched him carefully as the precise line of blades cut through the cloth that shielded her shoulder. One slip of the scissors and she'd been crying out in excruciating pain as her already weakened flesh would be weakened every further.

But she could see that Doctor Tarleton was incredibly skilled in his work, his spectre-like hands gliding over her now exposed skin as he inspected the scabbing but still bloodied flesh of her upper arm.

"There's a lot of dried blood near your collarbone, or whatever the turian name is for it," the old man remarked as he reached into his bag and pulled out a scalpel. "I'm going to have to scrape some of it off to make sure the wound heals properly."

She felt the initial sense of panic flash through her nerves as she laid eyes on the small blade but gradually relaxed. He would've had to do something like this at some point after all. Might as get it over with.

Tarleton worked quickly. Siana could barely feel the fine blade of the surgical knife discard of the drying blue blood near the center cut on her shoulder. Eventually, she felt only the remnant of a sensation on where the scalpel had once been, sighing in relief as the pain subsided into nothing.

"All done," the old man announced as he placed the scalpel down by his bag. "Now, I think that maybe the application of some nonvital medi-gel might just make the healing process a little quicker, but it can cause some adverse side effects for anyone allergic to it. Do you have a medical history of anything like that happening?"

Siana shook her head. "Thankfully not. I couldn't imagine not being able to take medi-gel, especially in frontline duty."

He slathered on a thin layer of the substance onto her wound, doing his best not to make her wince while applying it. Once he was done, he began to wrap a new set of bandages around the wound area with both hands. "How was that for you, frontline service?"

"It was an interesting experience. There's nothing quite like getting shot at by an armored troop carrier with cover that's crumbling apart like cardboard each second you're there. There's some distressing stuff an active soldier has to deal with which I think pretty well explains why I became a psychological assessment officer in the first place. Everybody fighting needs to be in the best shape at all times, both physically and mentally. If not...people are going to die."

Tarleton was almost done wrapping the bandages. "Can't say I ever had the experience. I've been serving on ships ever since I was eighteen. Even earned my degree on one. Combat was something that never came much my way."

"Really?" Siana repeated. "Because I would've thought-"

Suddenly, without any warning or indication, Siana shot her arm across the table and grabbed tightly at the scalpel Tarleton had left just by his bag. Leaping up from the table, she wrapped her wounded arm around the older human's neck and positioned herself behind him, holding the scalpel blade to the center of his throat.

Pressing her mouth gruffly up against his head, she whispered fiercely into his ear. "Open the door and get moving. I want to see your captain."

"Lieutenant," Tarleton replied calmly, letting his arms drop to his sides, not to give any indication of struggling or resisting against his unsuspected attacker. "You don't want to do this. There's at least one security officer posted in the main clinic. If you put the scalpel down I'll walk away like this never even happened, no questions asked."

She knew she wouldn't get another chance like this. It was a miracle that luck had fallen into her favor, but it was still a one time opportunity. The medi-gel's numbing effect would only be a temporary advantage in keeping her injured arm to obey, while Tarleton's guard would now be on extra high alert whenever around her. If she was going to act on the plan she'd been formulating since she'd regained consciousness, it would have to be acted on no matter what.

"Move," she whispered again, pressing the scalpel against the human with a little extra force.

"Okay," the old man submitted, beginning to step forward as he kept his arms at his sides.

The door swished open, and the two stepped into what appeared to be the corridor for the rest of the clinic. The walls were an equal shade of white to without a single other soul standing in the space. They stepped further down the hall and into the waiting area of the clinic, populated by a masked human security officer who jolted at the sight of the two.

"Don't," Siana commanded as the man reached for his pistol holster, "or I'll kill him."

The man seemed to weigh his options for a moment, his visored helmet tilting slightly as he looked the turian woman and her hostage over. Eventually, though, the officer moved his hands away from the resting weapon, showing that he wouldn't try anything...yet.

She inclined with her head towards the room's exit. "Open the door."

The officer did as he was told and stepped wordlessly away from their path. It was when they crossed the door's threshold and out into the hallway that she could hear the officer finally speak as the gate closed behind them.

"All units, be advised we have a hostage situation down on level 4N. Repeat, hostage situation on 4N. Assailant is armed and is on the move. All units, please respond."

And now Siana had a much more tangible timetable. She'd have to move fast. Once the 'hostage negotiations' began, it would only be a matter of time before she'd lose the upper hand. The officers were no doubt instructed on handling such situations and wouldn't hesitate for a moment if she opened herself up for error.

To her luck (thank the Spirits) there was a set of elevators just down at the end of the hall. She led Tarleton down the way, having to press the scalpel against him a few times to make his purposely slow stride a bit quicker. In the end, they reached the lift and stepped inside without a hitch.

"Which level is the bridge?" she asked coldly, trying to keep some element of dominance over the old man.

"This isn't going to turn out well for you," he stated in an almost passive tone. "Even if you kill me your crew is going to suffer for it. Is that a risk they'd want you to take?"

Olymrius more than likely would support her taking the fight straight to their kidnappers but she doubted the rest of the crew would agree to it. To any sensible creature it would be pointless to throw one's life away for nothing, but doing the same to others was something beneath any sentient with a conscience.

But she couldn't turn back, not now. She'd already committed to her decision and wouldn't back down. The security officers wouldn't treat her any differently if she surrendered now over later; she'd just have wasted the only opportunity she had at freedom.

"Shut up, and tell where the bridge is. I don't want to hurt you."

"And why should I listen?" Tarleton replied icily. "You're the one holding a knife to my throat which doesn't make me too keen on helping your escape attempt. And how will I know you just won't kill me once you have the chance?"

Siana sighed. "Doctor, I may not know as much as you do about anatomy but I know enough that there're much more sensitive areas in the body than others." She slid the knife away from his throat and down to his stomach. "The more you don't listen to what I tell you to do, the more pain I'll have to inflict to make you comply. Now, are you going to listen to me or make it so I have to demonstrate just how sincere I am?"

"1B," he blurted quickly but with dignity. "The bridge is there."

Siana reached forward and pressed the respective button on the elevator's panel. A few seconds later, they began to ascend.

"Siana, this isn't you," the human said in earnest. "You're better than this. You're an educated woman who doesn't have to do things so barbaric to get her way. Don't let this get any worse than it has to."

"You're saying this like we've known each other before," she replied coldly. "Doctor, the people you're working for have kidnapped and imprisoned myself and the entire crew of an official Hierarchy vessel. Although I'm appreciative of the medical care you've given me as well as your company, that doesn't mean I'm going to forget that you've trapped us here."

"There's other ways to do this."

"How? By being locked away until you people decide to let us go?! We're soldiers, each and every one of us, and we're not about to let this go without a fight."

Tarleton sighed. "Then you'll be throwing away your life for nothing. Do you think the Captain will let your entire crew go in exchange for my life? No. What he's planning, what he's trying to create is something that extends well beyond what I could ever do for our people. I'm an old man; they'll find someone to replace me, and whatever you're trying will be gunned down in a matter of seconds."

"That's certainly thoughtful of you, Doctor," Siana said with a scoff. "Will you be as encouraging when your thugs start beating me with their rifle stocks when I let you go?"

"I'm trying to help you. I know how the Captain is gonna react to this, and he won't take to kindly to you betraying his trust like this."

The elevator rumbled to a stop, and the twin doors swished open, leading them to the ship's bridge.

"Well, then maybe we can ask him ourselves," she whispered into his ear while nudging him forward.

The bridge was a rectangular sort, with lines of ship terminals surrounding the chamber's walls, while a large, slightly bent viewscreen displayed what appeared to be the surface of an orbiting space station surrounded by the blackness of space.

Attending to the terminals was a multitude of races, primarily human and turian with a few salarians intermixed within the fold. Siana even spotted a quarian typing away at one of the computers.

There were several security officers present in the room, at least four, similar in appearance to the one they'd ran into down in the clinic. Their heads immediately turned to the arriving elevator and seemed to hesitate for a moment as Siana stepped out with the scalpel still to Tarleton's throat. In an instant, however, the officers had their pistols trained on her and moved in on all sides.

"Stay back!" she barked while tightening her grip on the human. "Get any closer and you'll regret it!"

The officers didn't look entirely convinced and continued to approach at a slowed pace.

Siana could feel herself begin to perspire, the attention she was now getting from the entirety of the bridge as well as the officers approach throwing her off. All she had was the fear of what may happen if they believed her threats. And if that fear wasn't even present...she'd lost whatever bargaining chip she'd hoped to have.

"Guards, lower your weapons" a scratchy, almost hissing voice called from another side of the room. "Let me handle this."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the shape of human begin towards her. Spinning herself and Tarleton around she gasped at the bipedal creature that approached her.

"I'd introduce myself formally, but I don't believe you've quite earned the privilege considering what you're doing," the scorched man said through hissing breaths that gave his patterns of speech an almost reptilian edge.

"W-Who are you?" she managed, her body shaking as the monster's blank eyes focused in on her.

"I'm Captain Samuel Larris of the _Arc Monitor_. And you..." it casually typed into the omni-tool on his wrist and raised his forearm slightly into the air. Suddenly, Siana could feel something tug at the hand that was holding the scalpel and felt its thin handle slip from her grasp, stopping in mid air by the magnetic field generated by the creature's device. "...have just outstayed my hospitality."

One of the guards leaped forward and grabbed Siana around the elbow, yanking her away from Tarleton as he spryly stepped away from them. The other guards moved in as she struggled against her attacker's grip, gradually feeling the numbing effects of the medi-gel from earlier starting to wear off.

"That's enough," the creature ordered as it walked over to them, the guards immediately fanning out and forming a position around Siana and itself. "She's in no need of harm...yet."

The creature stopped just a few feet away from her, inspecting her behind two dead eyes while keeping his hands stiffly behind it back. It held a military-like posture as it appraised her with the dull orbs that passed for its eyes, holding a pure strength in its heightened attitude. Siana was only a few inches shorter, but she found herself looker away at its discomforting gaze.

"Like a snake you bite us for showing good will," the creature growled. "Even after Finnigan nurses you back to health you hold a knife on him like some common criminal. I expected a lack of manners after speaking with your ship's captain, but this? Threatening the life of my friend? That gives me all the more reason to reconsider the accommodations I've shown for your crew. I would've thought with the medical distinction oh so well displayed on your uniform that you'd have more poise than the common foot soldier, but it appears that you're a classless grunt at heart."

"It was the only chance I had," she murmured, looking away from the Captain.

"Is that right? And what were you thinking of gaining exactly? Did you honestly think you'd be able to escape? We're in the middle of space. There's nowhere you or your crew could go. All you've succeeded in is irritating me and making me rethink just how trusting I should be of you and your backstabbing friends."

"What do you want us to do with her, Captain?" one of the security officers asked with an offhand gesture to her.

He further scowled Siana. "Leave her here on the bridge. I'd like to keep my own eyes on her, just to be sure. And do to tell her captain that she's now under my personal watch. That ought to make him a bit more...subservient."

"You can't do this!" she cried. "We haven't done anything to you people! Why can't you just let us go, for Spirits sake!?"

"May I remind you, Lieutenant Terso, that it's technically a privilege that you're even alive. I'm not even obligated to follow military code which includes the taking of prisoners and, of course, includes the medical treatment of your shoulder. I do this upon my own accord, out of the goodness of my heart. And right now your little antics here today gives me significant reason to rethink that charity," his bandaged fingers grazed over the top of a holstered pistol at his side, "for you."

"You wouldn't dare..." she whispered.

"You're right," the Captain replied as he moved his hands away from his sides, "I wouldn't. But I can. Remember that as long as you're here and hopefully, we won't have any more incidents like today. Understand?"

She nodded slowly.

"Good." He turned away from her. "And could we please get out of orbit and back to the nearest relay station? The Alliance is bound to notice our little surprise here, and I don't want an unexpected visit from one of their frigates."

The bridge seemed to turn immediately back to business, operators returning to their posts, the guards from earlier moving back to their original stations.

Siana was left standing in the center of the chamber's activity, now almost like an afterthought among a soft wave of disciplined chatter.

She was stunned at just how quickly she was forgotten until noticing the cold glare from the disfigured Captain among the swirl of his subordinates, making it clear that his eyes would always be watching her no matter where she stood, just waiting for her to make a move.

Siana could feel a sense of dread drop into her chest, realizing that for all the trouble she'd gone through; she was right back in another confined cell. This one much harsher than the last.


	10. Red Tape

"Encrypted Alliance data?" Septimus asked in clarification to agents Ardarius and Cole.

The two had just gotten back from their excursion to Alliance Space and bore the clear signs of fatigue from their practically nonstop shuttle ride across the galaxy.

Ardarius's scales were looking rigid and coarse from lack of bathing, drying flakes of it already forming up along as arms and atop his fringe. The human was equally haggard, with paled skin and dark circles under his eyes so pronounced that they were practically a shroud over his entire face.

However, they both showed alertness to the task at hand, their duty to their respective governments outclassing whatever mortal limitations that things like eating or sleeping held over them. It was their job after all, and this certainly wasn't the first time either of them was in a less than capable state. In the end, their mission took the highest priority available, everything else coming second to it.

Ardarius nodded at his superior's question. "Cole's tried every Alliance code available, but the dossier still refuses to open to any of them. We even attempted to spike it with a codebreaker but found that the files are too old to even be compatible with that level of tech. Sir, we know the data we need is downloaded onto that memory stick, there's just no way of getting it opened through conventional means."

"And you're sure there's nothing else you can salvage from the dossier without getting locked out? Anything at all?"

Ardarius shook his head."Just the ship's projected image layout, its log summary, and the short dossier on its replacement captain, Alfonso Vasquez."

"The information provided matches up with official Alliance records on the captain," Cole added, "except for his official status being listed as 'missing in action.'"

Septimus's mandibles flickered in surprise. "What became of him exactly?"

The human spread his hands. "I'm not sure. The paper trail ends before it even begins. Even in the portable record bank the memory stick has saved onto it, there isn't all that much recorded about Vasquez. His records almost cease to exist after his transfer to Uhlan Station with no new information being added past then."

"It doesn't make any sense, sir," Ardarius broke in. "No matter what we seem to uncover there always appears to be large chunks of data just deleted or locked down without any explanation. There's much more to this than somebody wants us to see but we keep on running into obstacles in whatever we find."

"Well, perhaps if Agent Cole is willing," the aged silver turian said with a glance to him, "he could have our cryptography department take a look at the memory stick and see if there's any coding that can be cracked. I'm sure we'd be able to find some chink in the system."

"That won't be necessary," Cole said quickly with a polite smile. "I was actually just about to request a secure line back to ANI headquarters to have this mess sorted out. I'm sure someone back on Earth has the proper encryption keys or knows how to craft a duplicate to get us in."

Septimus inclined his head. "I'd be happy to grant you access to one of our transmission networks. The closest receiving room is down the hall on your left. You can't miss it."

"Thank you, sir," the human said with a formal bow as he exited the room. The two turians waited for the door to close behind him before they spoke.

"He doesn't trust us with that data bank of his," Ardarius declared in a hushed voice.

Septimus waved the notion aside. "Of course he doesn't. I would trust us if I were in his position either. It'd be foolish of him to freely offer over intel of that priority for cryptography to take a look at. We'd crack nearly _half_ of the Alliance's codes if we got our hands on that little memory stick he's carrying around."

"Seems like a pretty large prize we're letting get away."

"You think he's not expecting us to try something? The Alliance wouldn't take a risk that large without any kind of backup plan. There's no doubt a self-destruct switch on that device in case it ever gets 'misplaced'."

"And we're not making any effort to try and retrieve something of that importance? We may never get this opportunity again."

The older turian eyed him. "We had an agent observing his hotel when he first arrived, trying to discern a moment where he might be careless and leave the data in a convenient location for us to at least conduct a minor level scan of its content. It turns out he keeps it on him at all times, even when he's sleeping. So of course, there'd have been no easy way to get our hands on it without risking an incident between ANI."

He shook his head. "Your top priority it still finding and stopping who's ever behind these attacks. I'm thankful there hasn't been any other incident in the Traverse while you've been away but the possibility of another attack still has the Hierarchy anxious of what might happen next. Now is there anything else you'd want to talk about or would you wish to see if your partner has turned up anything useful?"

"Just one thing, sir," Ardarius replied. "Back at Uhlan Station, we ran into some Blue Suns mercs. We were able to take care of them without a hitch, but...before we were able to get the intel we needed, I saw something that worried me about Agent Cole."

"What might that be?"

"Well, before the Suns realized we were, he shot one of them who'd stumbled across where we were hiding. He claimed the merc had snuck up on him, possibly with the intention to kill. But when we came back that same way later I saw some things on the body that didn't quite add up. The merc had only half of its armor set on, wasn't in possession of a weapon, and heck, the merc he shot was barely past eighteen by the looks of it."

"And what's got you riled up about this exactly?"

Ardarius sighed. "I think he shot that merc on purpose, knowing he wouldn't be a direct threat to us. Yes, the kid could've alerted the rest of their gang to our presence, but I know that shooting first like that is against both Alliance and Hierarchy Intelligence code. We have a license to kill but not without reason. Which makes me assume he may not have all his plates in order if you get what I mean."

"So you think that he may be psychologically unstable?" Septimus asked evenly. "That's an accusation Naval Intelligence won't take kindly to hearing. If they sent Agent Cole out here for this joint assignment, I would assume they have the fullest trust in his attributes, including mental health. I can file a report on this if you'd like and forward it to the Alliance but I doubt they'll do anything about it."

The younger turian shook his head. "No, it's fine. I just thought somebody needed to know. But I'm telling you; it was like he was a different person just after he pulled the trigger, like he wasn't there. _Something_ was different about him."

"Well then maybe you should talk to him about this then. You two are partners after all, might as well try addressing something like this directly if it is that serious."

"I'll try to do that, sir. I really-"

The conference room's doors suddenly swished open, and a grim-faced Cole marched inside.

"We have a situation," he announced without preamble. "An Alliance fueling facility in the Traverse has just gone dark. A distress signal was sent out just before contact was lost, providing the description of a very large, very odd looking military craft docking with the station for routine refueling."

"Sounds like a familiar design," Ardarius alluded. "Do you think this could be our ship?"

The human nodded. "It could be." He looked over to Septimus. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, I'd like to requisition a vessel to conduct an immediate investigation of the area."

Septimus inclined his head politely. "By all means. But if I may ask, what's the status of the encrypted data situation, considering it's the best lead we have?"

"Alliance High Command's scouring through older networks back on Earth. It could take an entire week before they're able to turn up anything for us."

"Then it looks like we have something to do while we wait," Ardarius said restlessly. "I can get Tris to prep a ship for us in no time." He began towards the door and waved for Cole to follow him. Without another word the human followed after him, leaving Septimus to quietly admire the two's unconscious singularity.


	11. The Pain He Carries

"This doesn't make any sense," Ardarius said behind the controls of their mid-rank HIA ship. "Information this minor shouldn't be so difficult to get ahold of. If this were any other standard dreadnought, even if it was from before the Relay 314 Incident, the data on it would've been properly updated and recompiled on newer systems. Nobody would've had to go through all the trouble we did just to get ahold of the _Luptuse's_ files, better yet unlock them."

The turian vessel had been zipping along at FTL speeds for well over an hour, clearing millions of lightyears in less than a heartbeat. A vivid distortion of translucent mass effect fields warped over their outer hull, creating a dazzling display of shifting blue energy through the cockpits viewscreen. But despite the impressive visuals, they spoke as if the galaxy's natural beauty simply wasn't existent.

"I don't think we should jump to conclusions," Cole reasoned. "Why would anyone want to prevent us from learning more about it? What's so special about us?"

"Not _us_ in particular, Cole. Anybody searching for documents regarding the _Luptuse_. Somebody with access to the Alliance network, both in the modern day as well as when the ship was last at Uhlan, had to have gone into the systems and encrypted portions to prevent anybody from having easy access to the information."

"And why would someone want to do that?"

Ardarius grunted in frustration. "I don't know, not yet anyways. But didn't you say there was a mass reassignment of the administrative and security crew when it docked at Uhlan for the first time?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then maybe something happened along the way, something the Alliance wanted to keep a lid on so they sealed off a majority of the ship's records."

Cole eyed his partner wearily. "How does that explain the reassignments?"

"It doesn't but I know there's more to this than we're seeing. We just need to get that data decrypted, and we'll finally have a proper look at just what happened on the _Luptuse_ , and where it is now."

"Or it could still be at the fueling facility," the human suggested. "If those pirates decide to take their time we might just be able to catch them off guard. All we have to do then is call in the fleet and have this case done like dinner."

Ardarius looked to him while flicking one of his mandibles in query.

"Human saying," Cole explained.

"I thought so. Well, I guess that just leaves us a few hours to kill before we get there. You ever play _Sacred Diamonds_?"

The human held up his omni-tool and grinned. "Level 37 Technopath, dude."

"Whatever," Ardarius scoffed, brandishing his own omni-tool. "Level 35 Rogue Sniper. Even with your leveling, I could totally out do you in a raid."

Cole booted up the application. "Is that a fact?"

Ardarius did the same. "It will be."

* * *

Captain Samuel Larris inhaled happily, the latter exhale coming out as a rumbling hush that Siana was still having trouble getting used to. A day had passed since her attempted negotiation with Dr. Tarleton, and she already felt the regret of it all wash over her. Being under watch from a walking corpse that no doubt hated her was bad enough, but the utter look of betrayal the human doctor had shown at her once the entire standoff was over had been something she'd never forget.

Now she just tried to stow her negative emotions of fear and worry while keeping a stoic face in the horrid situation she found herself in. The Captain hadn't said a word to her since their initial confrontation and was beginning to regard her with a passive but inquisitive eye. Siana could practically feel his gaze whenever she moved, whenever she shifted her weight, his dead white eyes followed.

Currently, she stood a few paces behind the mangled human in the _Arc Monitor's_ bridge, careful not to make any sudden motion or sound that could bring his attention back to her. She just wanted to be left to herself and at least, have the illusion that she wasn't being watched.

The ship had spent some time in FTL mode before traveling across a nameless system in the Traverse until stopping at a significantly sized asteroid belt. Larris had seemed overjoyed once they'd brought the ship to all halt and immediately began issuing a rapid series of commands that she couldn't quite make out.

Since then, however, what appeared to be probes or drones of some sort were routinely being launched into the shifting maze of spherical rocks from atop the ship, with almost a fleet of remotely operated robots disappearing into the silent labyrinth.

"Beauty, isn't she?" the mangled human said aloud with a happy sigh to himself.

Siana jumped at the sound of his voice and took a few seconds to realize that he'd been talking to her. "W-What?

Larris turned around to face her with what looked like a satisfied grin on his face. "Months of planning and it's all finally here. So many chances for things to go wrong, so many variables we had to account for, and yet here we are almost at the end of it all. We're not in the clear yet, but goodness are we close!"

She frowned at the man's exclamation. "So does this mean your master plan is almost over? You can steal your supply of depository gold or exact your revenge on the Council and then we can all go home without anymore struggle?"

The Captain growled one of his supposed chuckles. "Please don't insult my intelligence, Lieutenant. Your captain thought the same. There's much more to this than I'd care for you to understand and it'd be idiotic of me to show my hand even when things seem entirely in my favor. You've proven yourself resourceful enough when the odds are with you, and I don't like taking chances."

"Being too cautious can still get you killed in the line of duty," Siana pointed out candidly. "Sometimes you have to take risks."

"You speak much more like a solider than you do a psychologist, Lieutenant. If you weren't wearing that uniform of yours, I would've assumed you to be one of the operators or helmsmen on your ship."

"I like to see myself as a soldier first and a psychologist second. The Hierarchy could call upon me or anybody else still in their secondary service phase, and we'd be more than capable to fill an active combat role."

Larris brought a bandaged hand to his chin. "Interesting, like the noble follower you're willing to fight and die for your government at a moment's notice. However, would you mind if I asked something concerning your medical expertise?"

She frowned. "And why should I answer anything for you? Not like you're going to tell me what I want to know."

"Well, maybe we could do a little information exchange. Non-vital of course."

"Alright," she said while crossing her arms. "What do you want to know?"

The man pressed his upper lip slightly in discomfort but still spoke with a touch of hesitance. "In your professional opinion, with your academic degree and experience, does it all seem like I'm...um, unwell?"

Siana initially felt like saying 'yes' considering what he'd done thus far. But as she began to recount everything that'd happened and everything he'd said to her, she merely shrugged her shoulders.

"I wouldn't really know. You can't make a proper assessment of someone without knowing their past experiences. It can take months or even years to get the proper insight into a patient's deeper mindset. If you're asking for a diagnosis, I'd need to know more to actually make an educated outline. Improper diagnoses are something professionals try their hardest to avoid. A patient's well being is our responsibility, and when getting our degree out of university, we are sworn to uphold that well-being."

The captain nodded his head to this, looking a little bit unsure of the answer he'd gotten. She had the feeling he'd been wanting to ask her that question for longer than he'd let on and didn't appear satisfied with the ambiguity to it. Did he think something was wrong with him or was she just having trouble reading that mangled human's face of his? She'd been educated primarily in turian subjects and his lack of pupils or eyebrows made interpretation circumstantial at best.

"So what do you want to know?" he said with some returning positivity. "You've fulfilled your part of the deal expertly."

Now it was her turn to be hesitant. She knew he wouldn't reveal anything he saw as essential to whatever he was attempting to do and may react hostilely if she asked anything too personal. That being said, if she wasn't assertive or at the very least direct, she wasn't going to have a chance of finding out just who was the mysterious human in front of her.

Sighing internally, she spoke. "Your face, your body, I want to know what made you look like that."

To her surprise, he smiled at the question, almost with amusement, not showing even a hint of disapproval in her query. "No doubt a favorite question with those who've met me."

"They're burns, third degree and awful ones at that. My lovely red complexion is exposed scar tissue that's reached its extent of healing. The nerves and vital internal systems have all gotten back to how they once were but there's still some sensitivity in certain areas." He gestured to his wrapped arms and hands. "Mostly these. But at what one time, a majority of my body was in the same shape which required equal bandaging."

"And how did you get those burns exactly?"

"That's two questions," he said with a sly grin. "But I'll answer anyway. It was a long time ago. Almost forty years now. I was assisting with damage control down in the engine area of the ship. I was attempting to reduce the pressure forming in a set of damaged fuel pipes when one exploded right in my face. The flames came out in torrents and in seconds, I was alight like a torch. My crewmates were able to put the flames out as quick as they could, but the damage had already been done."

"I lost my ears, my nose, all of my hair, and a few other parts. My eyes had to be reconstructed through cybernetics which explains my notable lack of irises. My throat is a lot slower when it comes to breathing and swallowing. And I can sense air pressure a lot better. Of course, the most notable setback is my appearance as a whole. It was hard for the crew to get used to my face, even more so to work efficiently under it. They learned eventually, however, meeting new people is always struggle."

"Were you under attack when repairing the pipes?" Siana pressed. "I would assume that if you were working in damage control, that would mean there was an active threat."

"They were several Hierarchy ships," Larris answered with a sudden harshness to his voice. "We'd gotten the news of what had happened by the 314 Relay just hours beforehand. It was incredible but terrifying at the same time. We weren't the only intelligent species in the entire galaxy, and it appeared that the other intelligent species was now at war with us."

"The _Monitor_ was far from any other Alliance reinforcements, but we were sure that our size and armaments could outmaneuver whatever our unknown enemy could throw at us." He sighed deeply while shaking his head. "God were we wrong. Three cruisers popped up on our scanner from out of nowhere. It didn't take us long to figure out we'd been being tracked and by then it was already too late. Their formation opened up on our ship almost immediately and just started circulating us. From how our ship was positioned and the rate they were moving we couldn't get a clear shot from our main battery or the rest of our guns."

He took a sudden step towards her, a look of fiery intensity in his eyes. "But there was more than just the circumstances of our ship's positioning or the fact that the Hierarchy had planned out their mode of attack. As humans we'd never fought a real ship-to-ship space battle before, never experienced the classic naval battles that were seared into our minds by our ancestors. We were weak, fickle, ignorant to what warfare had become. That's why we lost that day and swore that it would never happen again."

Larris turned away from her quickly, embarrassed at his sudden outburst of emotion. "But...um, that's just how things went. And there's no way any of us can change that." He coughed and took a few steps away from her, keeping his eyes averted. "I should get back to work. I told you more than a should've…"

The mangled human scurried away from Siana and over to a cluster of crewmembers operating near one of the bridge's terminals, leaving her to stand in confusion as to what she'd just seen.


	12. Dead on Arrival

"We're coming up to Fueling Station X28," Ardarius announced as the brown rocky dwarf planet entered into perspective from their ship's viewscreen. "Could you send me the docking codes?"

"Here they are," Cole replied as he forwarded the Alliance coding frequency from his omni-tool onto the ship's onboard system. "Do you see any good spots for us to settle onto the station?"

"There's one by the center loading area, just off to the station's left area."

"Got it."

The HIA vessel gingerly evened itself into a receiving docking arm. Hearing the metallic clank of the ship being locked into place, the two agents rose from their seats and exited the cockpit.

"So what're we looking for?" Ardarius asked as they stopped at the receiving airlock door leading into the base.

"Our top priority is to find any evidence leading us to the perpetrators. From there, I'm ordered set up a relay beacon display an all-clear signal." Cole brandished his pistol and pulled back on its hammer. "Locating survivors is our secondary objective."

Ardarius took out his weapon and did the same. It intrigued him how similar Intelligence operating procedures was between the two races. Get the information first, assess collateral damage second. It seemed cruel on the surface, but that's just how their line of work went. Protecting the many occasionally meant disregarding the few.

The connecting door slid open, and the two carefully stepped over the threshold.

They found themselves in a poorly lit, decrepit steel corridor. Even in the practical darkness the grunge and grit on the floor panels and walls were practically tangible. A single emergency light flickered overhead, splashing the filthy hallway with occasional bursts of dull orange.

"Not the worst fueling station I've been on," Ardarius pointed out humorously. "But not the best either."

They crept down the hallway with their weapons stiffly drawn forwards. At the end of the passage was a large door marked as 'Atrium' on the panel beside it. Cole attempted to ping the down open but was given a negative buzz from the access terminal, followed by a flashing red screen.

The human squinted at the computer screen for a moment. "The doors have been sealed off to contain a possible chemical breach on the other side." He did a brief scan of the door with his omni-tool. "Which is strange considering I'm not detecting any foreign substance residue beyond this door."

"I think our pirate friends may have something to do with this little contradiction," the turian said. "Can you get the door open from here?"

"Yeah...just gimme a few-there, got it."

The steel doors swished open, revealing a large common space at the small facility's heart. On regular occasions, it more than likely served as a waiting area for travelers or serviceman as they waited for their ships to be refueled. Advertisements spanned across the high topped walls while holographic screens played looping commercial reels.

What was more striking about the room, however, was the half dozen bodies that lie scattered across the room, motionless where they'd fallen. Ardarius could hear the human gasp beside him and briskly approach one of the corpses with his weapon. Kneeling down beside it, he cast an inquisitive glance at the dead figure

It was human, male, adorned in an orange service jumpsuit that bore Alliance markings. Cole stared intently at the body, doing his best to get a full inspection without disturbing the crime scene. A look of puzzled confusion crossed his face, and he shook his head.

"Is he dead?" Ardarius asked.

The human nodded his head. "Yeah. Looks like he was poisoned by something, caused his throat to swell up before he eventually suffocated. I assume that's the case with everyone else in this room."

"I guess we have our explanation for the 'chemical breach.'"

"It certainly wasn't accidental," Cole declared as he rose back to his feet. "Interstellar fuel fumes don't kill this cleanly. There'd be a lot more vomit and blood involved. Trust me; I've seen it up close."

Ardarius began to stroll amongst the dead, searching passively for any clues. "Odd how there doesn't appear to be any sign of boarding. You'd expect pirates to be a bit more thorough when it comes to raiding, especially a fueling facility this remote. They'd have all the time in the world to scavenge the plant dry before an Alliance patrol could show up. That is, if these were even pirates in the first place."

"Is this about your 'Alliance theory' again?" The human asked flatly.

"Picture it like this," the turian began to explain. "A weird looking ship that sort of looks like it's Alliance Navy shows up. They have what appears to be the right credentials, so you trust them, you let them attach to the station and happily welcome their crew aboard. But before this new group even shows up, they're able to release some toxin into the station killing everyone. Then, with everybody dead, the 'Alliance ship' can refuel and book it to the next system, leaving without a trace."

The human rolled his eyes. "That seems a bit complicated just for one ship to steal fuel. They would've been able to get more if they boarded and went for the exterior canisters, which were still attached when we flew in."

"That's not what I'm trying to say. What I mean is that the group used the ploy to quickly get ahold of free fuel and leave. They apparently wanted to get out of here before anyone realized what had happened."

"Then why would they kill everyone in the process? Hostages would've made much better targets and would work as bargaining leverage against the Alliance."

Ardarius pointed candidly. "Because they're not pirates. Everything we've observed so far has been completely contradictory to what we first thought. Hierarchy shipping lanes being raided? Okay, that sounds like your standard pirate band. But killing everyone on a fueling station for no real reason? That's terrorism."

"Terrorists," Cole tested the word as if he'd heard it just for the first time. "I guess that could make sense...maybe. But they wouldn't be Alliance, not if they're attacking their own. My assignment on this case is proof enough that the higher ups want this taken care of."

"Some of them," Ardarius said skeptically, "but maybe not all of them."

Cole rolled his eyes once again. "Let's just check the station log before we throw any more theories around. We still have a job to do."

They had to unlock another sealed door leading to the minuscule foreman's office that doubled as the administration center. As they entered the cluttered chamber, they could see that a figure was slumped over a still active terminal, the screen's faint orange light glowing off the dead man's body.

Cole nudged the corpse off the terminal and began to check the information still stored onto the device. It wasn't long before he found something.

"Looks like this is the man who sent the distress signal to the Alliance," he said with a gesture to the body as he continued to type. "Poor guy had to watch the rest of his co-workers die before the toxin eventually got to him up here."

Ardarius shrugged. "At least, he got the distress signal out. What else can you tell from the terminal?"

"Well, there's a few docking codes registered just before the facility went dark. A few freighters, a survey team, and...a batarian ship?"

The turian's mandibles flicked in surprise. "Not what I would expect from a facility this remote, especially in a colonial system. Anything else?"

Cole clicked in a few more commands and sighed in frustration. "Looks like the internal fuel lines have been cut. The systems detecting multiple leakages into the refinery equipment, possibly triggered by an overloading of the discharge valves." He cursed under his breath, leaning over the cluttered table. "This just keeps getting better and better…"

"Interesting turn of events," Ardarius said as he brought a pondering hand to his chin. "An entire Alliance fueling station is gassed, the lines are sabotaged, and a batarian docking code was the last recorded on the system log. I'd say that narrows it down to terrorists."

"But _not_ Alliance backed," the human countered. "No way in hell would an Alliance official work with those creeps, corrupt or not."

"Maybe, but we won't know for sure until we have all the facts. There's always exceptions to these sorts of things."

Cole began typing into his omni-tool. "I'm forwarding the information on this terminal back to Naval Intelligence. Hopefully, they'll be able to make sense off-"

He was interrupted by the incoming pinging from his wrist, giving hint that he'd just received a notification. Closing the current window on his display, he scrolled over a new set of text and nodded periodically at what he saw.

"What's it say?"

"High Command was able to unlock the files about the _Luptuse_. They've been forwarded to a safe house on the colony of Delmarva. We are to leave immediately to intercept them."

Ardarius crossed his arms skeptically. "A bit faster than their initial approximation, wouldn't you say? I would've thought that your superiors would want you to continue surveying this place for any clues, to confirm who did this."

"Our main priority is tracking down the _Luptuse_. We still can't confirm one hundred percent that they were behind this attack. It could be entirely unrelated for all we know." He paused, discomfort creeping into his words. "What, do you think we might be walking into a trap?"

"Let's just say the thought dawned on me. Whatever the case may be, I'll have my gun's safety off as soon as we touch down on Delmarva. This doesn't feel right to me."

"We'll never know until we get there," Cole replied as he walked toward the exit. "Let's get moving."


	13. Contract Confirmed

It was nearly two in the afternoon on the colony of Delmarva and the starry night was still well upon the mountaintop settlement. The violet sky stretched over the modestly sized buildings and alleyways, painting the townscape in a warm midnight glow.

A few pedestrians walked briskly along the area's winding pavement streets, glancing overhead at the occasional speeder passing above the rooftops. Things were calm at that particular hour of the day, the morning dew just now deciding to evaporate gradually as the colonies last stragglers hurried to the jobs they were no doubt late for.

A single figure walked casually along the streets, bidding his time with comfortable steps and hands shoved into overcoat pockets. Their leather shoes clicked dully against the still wet ground as the wind pushed past their broad shoulders.

It was a human male, with creamy blonde hair poking out from under the upturned collar of his jacket, fair red leather skin that seemed liable enough to block a bullet, and a stature exceeding nearly six and a half feet tall, making him tower over the rare passerby that got too close.

The man, swiveling his head one way as he reached a particular alleyway, turned into it and continued walking, his eyes darting from side to side in the narrow space. He stepped through puddles and storage crates, garbage bins and loose wiring, scrap metal and stray cats, pushing deeper into the heart of space better left forgotten.

He stopped at a plain-looking door attached to an even plainer-looking warehouse that had seen better days. The windows were taped black from the inside with chipping white paint skittering off the outside facade like startled mites. Stepping over a few bales of garbage, he approached the door.

He reached forward into his pockets and brandished an unmarked keycard and skimmed it across the door's hidden access panel on the nearby wall. As if an invited guest, the internal locks clicked open as he entered without a sound, shutting the door behind him.

The man slipped through a dusty entryway and down a long flight of wooden stairs. As he descended, he was alerted to two voices speaking plaintively at the well's bottom, their words echoing in tandem with his creaking footsteps.

When he reached the bottom, he found himself in a chamber surrounded by the scope of several glowing terminals, all displaying an electric blue aura that provided the only illumination for the entire room. An exceptionally large monitor hung over the rest at the room's center, the Systems Alliance logo displayed proudly across its projection.

Two figures chatted amongst the haze of blue light, one male, another female, both in the plain clothes attire of Naval Intelligence agents. They stood opposite from one another and turned to face the new arrival with inquisitive glances.

"Agent Cole?" The female agent greeted.

"Where's your turian?" Her male counterpart added. "Mission report said you'd have an HIA operative with you."

The man took a few steps out into the light, keeping his hands in his pockets.

"I think you have me mistaken," he replied with the hint of cockney to his words. "I'm Agent Grant, sent in place of Agent Cole to receive the _Luptuse_ files."

The male agent raised an eyebrow. "We weren't informed of this change. Just what department of are you even part of?"

"I'm afraid you don't have the clearance to know," Agent Grant said cooly. "Needless to say, I am here on Cole's behalf and will happily accept the files for processing."

"We're not giving you them without proper clearance," the female agent said. "That's not how this works."

Grant glared at the both of them, eyeing them with equal parts disdain. "Fine, then. Check the call number 5Z72B on your comm network. I'm sure my superiors have sent out the proper notifications."

The male agent began towards the main terminal when the first silenced shot rang out, a well-placed bullet piercing the back of his head, splattering its contents against a nearby monitor. The female agent turned towards Grant in surprise, here eyes just catching the glint of his pistol now clenched in his outstretched arms is it kicked with another fired round. The bullet struck her dead center in the forehead.

He held the smoking gun in his hand for a moment, checking if any other agents came bursting out of the shadows with weapons drawn. Getting none, he promptly concealed the weapon back into his chest holster and approached a nearby office chair. It was just a few yards away from the pools of blood forming on the room's floor.

Grant slipped off his jacket and laid it across the backrest of the chair. As he lowered himself into a sitting position he let out a long and heavy sigh, his weary bones finally getting a rest for the first time that day.

Now, all he'd have to do was wait for his targets to arrive. Plenty of time for him to prepare.

* * *

One nonstop spree of relay jumps, barely enough sleep, and a hastily bought landing pass later and Ardarius and Cole walked side by side through the empty streets of Delmarva, the perpetually dark violet sky still hanging over the expanse of black mountaintops.

"You'd think for a colony that's always in the dark there'd be a few more street lamps around here," Ardarius remarked as they approached a narrow alleyway. "Can barely see my hand in front of my face."

Cole didn't respond, instead stopping at the small passageway entrance. "This looks like the place."

"Pretty inconspicuous for the Alliance to hide a safe house out here," the turian complimented as he pulled his pistol out of its holster. "Must be a little inconvenient having to come to a planet this remote, though."

The human looked to Ardarius and his readied weapon. "Are you worried about something?"

"Remember what I said back at the fueling facility? I'm not going to be taking any chances, safe house or no. I suggest you take out your gun as well, just to be prepared."

Cole shook his head. "I think I'll take my chances. Just make sure not to make any sudden movements around the other agents with it drawn. They're not going to be too trusting of an agent from a rival government."

They began down the alleyway, Ardarius scanning around the narrow passage. "Last time I checked the Hierarchy and Alliance were allies. Considering our partnership in the Reaper War, I thought that status still stood."

"Everyone knows that's crap. Information transcends anything politicians spit out. Just because we fought together doesn't mean we're not going to keep an eye on each other and possibly get a few pegs ahead. I'd be worried if all the races didn't continue with that policy after the war."

"Sounds like you have some strong opinions on this matter."

"Yeah," the human replied flatly, eyeing Ardarius for the first time with a touch of anger. "I caught a glance of that operative your Agency sent over to spy on my hotel. Not to mention the probable wiretap on your long distance transmitters when I contacted Naval Intelligence HQ."

The turian put his hands up in defense. "Wasn't my decision to make. And besides, wouldn't you want us to try and do that? Keep in mind that you're carrying a memory stick with classified Alliance Intel on it, the kind of Intel that one could only get from a facility on your homeworld. If this was a few decades ago, the Hierarchy might've decided that the memory stick was more important than finding out who's behind the attacks. A convenient little 'accident' probably would've occurred just before you reached Palaven."

"What I'm trying to say is that we've come a long way, and I don't want you to be distrustful of anything I do or say. We both have the same goal in all this, and we'll both catch hell if we don't get to the bottom of it."

Cole reluctantly nodded. "I guess you have a point there. Just excuse me if I continue to sleep with one eye taped open."

Ardarius grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

They arrived at the safe house a few minutes later, Cole's clearance code getting them in without a hitch. Stepping inside the pitch black entryway, they began down the long flight of wooden steps leading to the hideout's main chamber.

When they reached the landing and stepped into the center room, they were made immediately aware of the distinct blue haze of multiple terminal screens, prompting the both of them to squint at the harsh lighting.

And in front of an unusually large monitor with the Alliance logo displayed across it, was a sitting silhouette of a man, facing towards them, a pistol pointed steady forwards.


	14. Red Grant

"Drop it," the figure commanded to Ardarius, gesturing the nose of his weapon to the floor. Slowly, the turian lowered his pistol to the ground.

"That's it," the voice chided as it finally clattered to the floor. "Don't want to be taking chances with you two. Odds are against me after all." The figure slipped on a pair of black, silken gloves to each hand, learning forwards in their seat to get a better perspective of them.

"So...Maxton Cole, they actually did send you. It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

The human's face looked perturbed. "Excuse me when I say I don't believe we've met."

"We haven't?" The shadowy figure said as they rose from their chair and stepped out into the electronic light. "That isn't how I remember it."

The figure, a tall, well-built human male with blonde hair eyed the other human with a confident smirk, keeping his silenced pistol aimed at the both of them. Cole gasped.

"G-Grant…" He began, confused bewilderment filling his words.

"Right the first time," the man replied. "And I see you've brought a friend along with you," he said while turning his gaze to Ardarius. "So, Naval Intelligence has you working with aliens now? My, how things have changed."

"I take it you know this creep?" Ardarius asked Cole.

He shakily nodded. "We were...partners for awhile."

"Oh, don't sell it short, Cole. We weren't just partners," Grant looked back to Ardarius, "we were unstoppable, the best agents ANI had ever seen. Busted the Black Maw narcotic ring in the Finely System, tracked down batarian ship hijackers on Narvik, solved the murder of Grand Admiral Bannon."

"Before you fell off the face of the Galaxy," Cole cut in.

Grant chuckled. "If I had the clearance to tell you back then I would've. But unfortunately, internal security came first."

"Does that mean you're still with the Alliance?"

He made a shaky motion with his palm. "Half in half out is a more accurate term. Depends on how far your definition of 'the Alliance' goes. Am I working with humans? Yes. Can you find my name in most department records? No. Does the well-being of our government still concern me? Yes."

"You're black ops," Ardarius said flatly.

Grant smiled at the assertion. "It seems you hit the nail right on the head, old man. And how exactly do you figure, hmm? Enlighten me."

"I've dealt with your types before, they were turians but still the same trash as you. Self-righteousness, secretive, thought they were above the law. Nearly killed an entire mining crew just to cover up a botched assassination." He grit his teeth. "I wouldn't be surprised if you've done something similar."

"Charming," the human shot back without humor. "Strange though that your Hierarchy paired you up with my former partner here. Especially considering your obvious competence and his obvious incompetence. Not in skill for to say but in...other matters."

Cole's eyes widened at the passing statement, looking to Grant with fear in his eyes. His former partner only grinned.

"What're you talking about?" Ardarius asked.

"What? Didn't Cole already tell you?"

Cole was beginning to shake. "Grant, stop! I-It's not important!"

"Not important? Why I was thinking just the opposite, _partner_. If I'd known sooner, maybe our little excursion to the Gagarin Cluster wouldn't have ended in such a mess." He looked back to Ardarius. "So he really hasn't told you, eh?"

"Please..." Cole pleaded.

Grant, savoring his old friend's distress, sighed happily. "What Cole is all shaken up about is that there's a tiny little problem he's had since joining Naval Intelligence, a tiny little defect that's gotten in the way of his missions before. You see, time after time, year after year, our mutual friend Cole here has failed the psychological analysis portion of his annual performance exam."

"Not just perform poorly, I mean failed. The only reason they've kept him around all this time is because he's proven himself to be too reliable of an agent. And as the higher ups see it, his little 'episodes' only happen so infrequently, why meddle with them in the first place, right?"

"But if anybody ever found out that the Alliance has been knowingly sending out a mentally unstable agent to represent them in internal and external matters well...it wouldn't turn out very well. This makes Cole here a walking scandal for the government and a liability once he outstays his usefulness for them."

Cole was silent, hanging his head down in shame and sadness as his old friend spoke. Ardarius, noticing his partner's distress, jumped to his defense.

"Why are you doing this to him?" He snapped back. "Why are you telling me all this when you know it's only hurting him? I thought you two were partners?"

The blonde human's face darkened. "We were friends, not just partners. It was only when I left the ANI that things changed. I made it clear to him that I was accepting a different form of employment and that a select group of individuals were interested in his skills as well. But instead of accepting, instead of staying with his best friend, he declined, and we haven't seen each other since."

"You knew he was black ops?" Ardarius said to Cole.

The human grimaced. "Not exactly. I knew Grant had gone off to work for some pretty powerful people, powerful enough that you'd wind up dead if you broke your agreement with them. I wasn't sure who he was working for, but I assumed it was Cerberus. This was before Shepard's return, when Cerberus was still a rogue element in the Alliance." He stared daggers at Grant, strength returning to his words. "I wasn't willing to mix in with a bunch of indoctrinated fanatics, but it appears my former partner here thought different."

Grant scoffed. "I only ran a few missions for those lunatics. And I assure you, it was before they started turning into husks. However, it seems you valued your perception of safety over our friendship. Your loss, maybe then we wouldn't be standing here today."

"What do you even want, Grant?" Cole said

"I know why you two are here. The files on the _Luptuse_ , the ones sent to the data buoy here on Delmarva, I'm not supposed to let you intercept them. The both of you are to be terminated, and that memory stick you're carrying is to be destroyed."

"On whose orders?"

"That doesn't concern you. What does is you handing over what I want before I make your inevitable demise more painful than it ought to be. Now," he extended the hand that wasn't holding the silenced pistol, "give it to me."

Cole narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you come and take it? You've got a gun to us."

"Yes, and there's two of you. I pride myself on my marksmanship, but I don't take chances. If I shoot one of you, that gives the other equal opportunity in disarming me. Something that I'd prefer not to happen." He motioned with the gun's nose to his outstretched palm.

Cole looked to Ardarius intently for a split second, then back to Grant. Loudly sighing, he opened the external carrier of his omni-tool and clicked the memory stick out of its dock.

"Good," the other human purred, "Now give it here."

Cole ran the piece of metal and plastic between his fingers, keeping his eyes glued to the small piece of tech. He was hesitant to take a step forward, only looking up at Grant for a moment before turning his attention back to the memory stick.

"I don't have all day, Cole. The longer you wait, the more lead you'll be taking."

Cole nodded his head. "Fine…" He flicked a small switch on the memory switch and chucked it directly at Grant's face. "Here!"

The memory stick erupted in bright white flash as bits of the small device crumbled to dust. The two agents charged toward the stunned gunman.

Grant, still partially blinded by the flash, squeezed the weapon's trigger tensely, the silenced pistol kicking in his hand as the swish of a single round whizzed out of the chamber.

The bullet struck the sprinting Ardarius, crumpling the turian with a pained groan.

Cole barreled into Grant as he attempted to straighten his aim, knocking the pistol to the floor with a swat of his hand as the two men began to grapple fiercely against one another, each trying to topple the other to the ground

Grant, with his larger size, seemed to have the upper hand initially. His grip was a vice against Cole's, he could feel the skinnier man's strength already begin to falter under his own. Cole, noticing this as well, brought a sharp heel into Grant's sternum, freeing him from the other man's grip as the blonde brute stumbled away, clutching his chest.

"You've gotten better since our last mission," Grant mocked with a few heavy breaths. "Guess that's what happens when you don't have me to cover for you anymore, eh?"

Cole was silent as he ran forwards, ready to lunge back at him. Instead, he felt a crushing fist slam into the center of his face followed by a swift uppercut to his chin.

The blow propelled him backwards, crashing into the ground across his back and sending a jolt of searing pain through his shoulders. At first, he thought it was just the impact against the floor that was its source, but he soon discovered that he'd landed on something much more stiff and metallic.

In a flash, he reached behind his lying back and pulled out the silenced weapon, leveling it towards Grant just as he was about to run back towards him.

"Damn it," the blonde brute growled. "I knew you wouldn't let this go down to a fair fight!" His hand darted to the omni-tool across his wrist and keyed in a quick command, cloaking his body immediately in a stealth field.

"This isn't over yet, Cole," Grant's voice called from a different edge of the room. "You're messing with the wrong people. The next time we meet, I'll make sure not to go easy on you. But until then...piss off."

The voice then disappeared entirely; hurried footsteps sounded out from the stairwell, the noise gradually fading into oblivion.


	15. Off the Record

"So he got away?" Ardarius asked casually, still lying on the darkened floor.

"Yeah," Cole nodded, as well on the floor. "He did. Are you alright?"

The turian rose from the ground while stretching stiffly. "I'll be okay. My armor absorbed most of the impact."

He proved the sentiment by undoing his front jacket and displaying the black plating hanging on his chest. A large hole was now present in its center, just where his heart was. "Your old friend certainly has good aim, though, if I weren't wearing this I'd be stone dead right about now."

The human straightened himself into a standing position. "He might be good, but we're better. Although I have a sinking feeling that won't be the last we've seen of him. We'll have to be ready next time."

Ardarius nodded in reply and paused for a moment, rubbing the back of his fringe awkwardly. "Was...what he said about the psychological exam...true? I'm not trying to judge you or anything I'm just-"

"-Curious?" Cole finished with a weak grin. "Yeah, it's true. I've always been able to keep on top, but I guess the stress of Naval Intelligence doesn't help in that regard. I've done my damndest in making sure nobody who isn't authorized finds out, but I made the mistake entrusting Grant as my confidant. Things were different back then."

"I would imagine so," Ardarius agreed. "He seemed pretty mad at you."

"Grant took it personally when I refused to sign up with whoever he's working for; I can see that now. Maybe he thought I didn't value our friendship, that I didn't trust him anymore. I don't know. I'm willing to admit he saved my skin a lot more than I did his. Which means I guess you can say makes me indebted to him."

The turian shook his head. "No, you aren't. That's what's expected of partners. You did the right thing not throwing your life into the mess he's in. Hell, whoever he's working for might just kill him outright for failing on his first try."

"Maybe. Or they might send in someone even more dangerous than Grant. If such a thing's even possible…"

"He didn't seem that tough. He had us at a disadvantage. Next time we see him," Ardarius brought a fist into his palm, "he won't stand a chance."

Cole shook his head. "Keep in mind that Grant doesn't go down easy. And now that he knows what we're capable of, he's going to adapt his tactics. He was right about covering for me when we were partners. He always did but never seemed to mind. I think he knew I needed it."

"Because of…" Ardarius tapped his forehead, referring to what Grant had revealed, much to Cole's discomfort.

Cole nodded. "Yeah. He figured it out on our third mission together. I, uh, _snapped_ , on an assignment. He helped me through it and promised not to put it onto our mission report. This happened a few more times, no matter how hard I tried to stifle it."

"Eventually, somebody ratted on us. I was about to be reassigned to a lesser position when Grant stepped in, threatened to resign if I was demoted. Our handler, reluctant at first, still agreed." He paused. "If it weren't for what he did, I'd be shuffling data piles instead of standing here."

"Then seeing him again, under those circumstances, must've been pretty tough." Ardarius placed a kind hand on his shoulder. "You feelin' alright?"

The human bit the lower edge of his lip and nodded again. "I'm okay. But how about we download those files and get back to the ship? I've had enough of this planet."

* * *

A few days later, Ardarius, Septimus, and Cole found themselves standing in a conference room at HIA headquarters on Palaven, explaining their findings to the elder turian. They both looked haggard and unrested, the effects of nonstop interstellar travel wearing them thin after so many days.

" _Arc Monitor_?" Septimus tested the word skeptically. "Don't believe I've ever heard of such a ship, especially not a dreadnought. Are you sure this data you were sent was in its correct format?"

"We are, sir," Ardarius replied. "The ship was renamed to the _Luptuse_ by Alliance High Command when they docked at Uhlan, just after taking off from Earth."

"This was at the same time the officer's corps, and security detail aboard were replaced," Cole added.

"And what spurred this exactly?" The older, grey turian asked. "Sedition I would assume?"

"Threat of sedition," Cole said. "The ship was funded and constructed by a joint Anglo-American alliance, with practically no interference by the still fledgling Alliance at the time. It was set to be a show of force by the cultural and economic allies, that their two respective nations still held prominence in an increasingly globalized world that was being overseen by the Alliance."

"As one would expect, this made the Alliance less than comfortable. The _Monitor_ was a ship of immense size and armaments, even by today's standards. Countless resources were pooled by both nations to construct a ship of such design, hastily but expertly made from the Prothean technologies that had been salvaged from the colony on Mars."

"And the Alliance was afraid of such power being in possession of someone who wasn't them," Septimus concluded.

Ardarius nodded. "That's what it seems. By replacing the officer's corps and security forces with Alliance recruits, they'd hoped to ease the ship better under their command. It was meant to be only temporary, to 'educate' the officer recruits on the workings of a ship in that class. As one would expect, the crew knew that wouldn't be the case and weren't very keen on it."

"Numerous requests were made to the Alliance to overturn the action, each being met with refusal by the High Command. It was the dismissal of the ship's original captain, James Trenton, that set the crew into further agitation. Security sentences began to increase, probation and demerits became commonplace among the serving crewman."

"And what happened from there?"

"The paper trail ends," Cole answered. "The last received frequency from the _Luptuse_ was somewhere out in the Norquist system, just a few days after the incident at Relay 314 took place."

Septimus rubbed his chin in query. "That leaves a long stretch of time open for something to occur on that ship. Are you quite sure there're no other records available?"

Cole shook his head. "Just speculation. There was word of a possible commission being established to investigate the matter, but this was at a time when humanity was acclimating itself with the galactic community. There were larger things on Alliance High Command's mind."

"What's odd about it though is that interest never seemed to be sparked afterwards," Ardarius added. "Mentions of the incident became less and less frequent in official reports until the case practically disappeared. The fact that we had to jump through all these hoops just to find a passing reference to the ship only serves to prove just how obscure it's become. Possibly on purpose."

"Yes," Septimus declared knowingly, "I noticed your theory on your after-action reports. Usually, I would cite it as a probable likelihood, but considering what happened on Delmarva...well, I have much more reason to evaluate it. But this agent, this 'Grant' who attacked you, were you able to dispose of him?"

"We weren't," Cole admitted. "He activated a cloaking field before I could get a shot off. He was long gone by the time we made it back to the ship."

Septimus sighed. "Well, I guess that only adds another layer to this damn mess. There's no way we'd be able to take this to the Alliance without iron-clad proof, even with Agent Cole's testimony. The very implication of someone in the High Command acting beyond their reach is subject to a diplomatic incident."

The grey turian leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Whatever the case may be, I believe it's my duty to inform you two of some recent developments while you were away. I thought you might wish to hear them."

"Want do you mean, sir?" Ardarius said with an anxious flick of his mandible.

"Those docking codes you forwarded from the attacked Alliance fueling facility, it appears agent Cole's initial assessment was correct. They've just notified us that they did, in fact, originate from a batarian aligned vessel, confirming that one of their ships was responsible for the massacre aboard the X28 station."

The human's eyes narrowed in confusion. "But...that doesn't make any sense. A lost Alliance dreadnought somehow under the command of the batarians? They wouldn't have the training, the experience to maneuver a human vessel like that."

"Keep in mind, Agent Cole, that the _Luptuse_ has been missing for well over thirty years. Numerous fates could have befallen it. And it being a human dreadnought doesn't negate the possibility of batarians hijacking it. More intricate machines have been stolen by them in the past after all."

"I agree with Cole," Ardarius cut in. "The fact that just finding the damn name of the ship sent us halfway across the galaxy should be red flag altogether. Doesn't this sound a little too convenient? That a readout of the ship would just be left on a station they briefly docked with? Whoever we're dealing with have covered their tracks well enough so far. They wouldn't screw up now."

Septimus shrugged as he rose from his seat. "I'm just relaying what I've been told. If you two would wish to look into this situation further go right ahead, but for now, we're attempting to track the readout to its source. From there, it'll be a military matter to take this rogue ship down."

The older turian began towards the door and exited the room. The two agents didn't speak until they were sure he was gone.

"There's more going on with this than they're realizing," Ardarius said in a hushed voice. "Someone wanted us to find that readout at the facility, and they weren't batarians."

"It could be anyone," Cole reminded, "but if it's someone in the Alliance…"

"Then we'll have to be on our guard. Especially with that Grant friend of yours still out there."

The human nodded. "What's our plan of attack then? Where do we go from here?"

"Well, something peaked my interest in the logs we were going through. The original captain, James Trenton, is he still alive?"

Cole pinged up his omni-tool. "I can check if you want. Why do you ask?"

Ardarius grinned. "'Cause he might just be the missing link we need."


	16. Reparation for Failure

Agent Grant stood stiffly towards the single monitor in front of him, a row of human-shaped silhouettes displayed across the entire screen. A faint blue-green glow emulated from the electronic projection, painting the dark antechamber in a ghostly aura.

His initially pressed suit had several new creases along the joints, the only physical wounds of the brief scuffle with his former partner, Maxton Cole. What was more wounded, of all things, was his pride. Long had he dreamt of murdering the backstabbing excuse for a friend, imagining the gruesome and just demise he'd give the ungrateful loser.

And yet, like his initial assessment of the man, it didn't go as he'd planned. Now he would have to answer for that failure.

"Council members," he greeted with a formal bow to the monitors, "I'm very appreciative you were able to accept my call at such short-"

"What has become of the Luptuse data?" One of the silhouettes interrupted, their voice distorted beyond recognition. "Has it been adequately disposed of?"

"And Agent Cole," another added impatiently, "has he and the turian been dealt with yet?"

Grant swallowed nervously. "T-That's actually why I chose to contact this council directly. To inform you-"

"Of what?" Another interrupted.

"That I-I have failed," he answered with slumping shoulders. "Neither the data, nor the other two agents have been disposed of."

The monitor paused.

"This is most unfortunate, Agent 4114. This Council had the absolute assurance in your ability as a field operative and entrusted you with a very critical matter. If this trust was misplaced...perhaps we should consider ulterior methods to ensure success."

"That won't be necessary," Grant said quickly, "I've already taken the necessary steps to track their ship. Once they've touched down at a secure locale, they'll be dealt with accordingly."

"This does not excuse you from responsibility to your failure," one of the voices reminded. "The data concerning the Luptuse has already been exchanged to a secondary party. Our control over it was subsequently negated when Agent Cole was able to download it from Delmarva. In his hands, the possibility of the Luptuse's true nature being discovered has increased substantially."

His eyes sharpened as the smiling, sneering face of Cole materialized in his mind's eye, the nonexistent figure mocking him wordlessly. "I'll take whatever steps are necessary to guarantee success. He will not escape my grasp again."

"We would hope so, Agent 4114," the monitor spoke. "For your sake especially. This organization is not amenable for tolerating failure. See this as a warning."

He bowed once more. "Of course."

"Additional equipment will be supplied at the usual drop site. However, there is a small request that must be taken care of while you are there. See it as reparation for your mistake."

"What would the request be exactly?"

"The operative delivering your armaments, Agent 2758, is to be disposed of once you have made contact. We have reason to believe they are guilty of embezzlement."

"And do try to execute the mission without inciting too much attention," one of the voices seemed to mock. "We wouldn't want two mishaps in a single day, now would we?"

The feed cut off abruptly, leaving a disdained and fearful Grant standing in silent darkness.

* * *

Two days later...

Eden Prime had certainly seen better days. In fact, Eden Prime, once the crown jewel of Alliance colonial development, was desperately aching for at least one of those better days.

Devastated by the Geth attack several years ago as well as the Cerberus one afterwards, the garden world had suffered internal corruption among the local government and a stagnant economy that only crippled the already cash-strapped colony's attempt at reconstruction. Despite repeat aid packages from the Systems Alliance, colonial interest from both outsiders and the locals themselves seemed to be at an all-time low, making the colony's future status all the more uncertain.

That was to say, until a few months ago, when, almost like a switch had been thrown, the colony bounced back with style. The discovery of precious metals coupled with a surge in agriculture brought upon by applicable weather was allowing the once recession-plagued market to finally show growth.

Internal investigations had as well exposed numerous corrupt officials stationed in the government, triggering a wave of reforms and new elections that placed individuals with actual competence into positions of leadership.

This aura of refreshed optimism was almost palpable as Ardarius and Cole walked through the wide streets of Constant, the planet's official capital. The sun shown comfortably overhead, only a few distant clouds floating through the sky.

"These colonists certainly know how to turn things around," Ardarius remarked as he observed a passing cluster of chatting teenagers. "Just last year those kids would be on the nightly news, no doubt part of the crime wave that swept through following the Reaper War."

Cole nodded. "You wouldn't believe how many taxpayer dollars went into this place. For a while, the Alliance thought injecting a bunch of stimulus packages would get things moving again. Ironic that things were able to fix themselves."

"I doubt the Hierarchy would pour that kind of money into a colony that was that much of a backwater. It'd be a waste of credits."

"Maybe," the human shrugged, "but Eden Prime stood-stands for something. It was one of our first major colonies. Holds a lot of history with it."

Ardarius pointed up at an apartment complex they were about to pass. "Speaking of standing, is that the place we're looking for?"

Cole glanced at his omni-tool. "Umm, yes! Yes, it is. 565 Jefferson Lane."

They walked up the front steps side by side and knocked against the rustically wooden door, waiting for a response. After a few moments, the door gently swung open to reveal the kind and composed face of an elderly human male.

"Yes?" He greeted to both of them, as well as passively questioning their presence. "May I help you?"

"Captain James Trenton?" Cole asked as he took a step forward. "My name is Agent Maxton Cole, Alliance Naval Intelligence. My partner here," he gestured to Ardarius, "is Ardarius Cosbius with the Hierarchy Intelligence Agency. We were hoping if you could answer a few questions for us."

The old man's eyes sunk back into his head slightly, a look of concern crossing his wrinkled face. "I-Is something wrong? Have I done something I shouldn't have?"

"No, Captain," Ardarius replied. "We wanted to inquire more about the dreadnought you once commanded, the Arc Monitor, later renamed the Luptuse."

A sad smile stretched across the Captain's face at the turian's response. "So the truth finally came out, eh? I was hoping someone would come looking for what actually happened before I croaked." He held the door open for them. "Come on in and make yourselves comfortable. I'm sure you have a lot to ask."

* * *

A few minutes later the two agents sat across from the aging captain in a quaint parlor room. The old man smiled at the both of them from his leather armchair, gesturing to the ancient sofa both sat on.

"I hope you boys are comfortable. I had the seams touched up just last month."

In truth, the sofa was more uncomfortable than lying on a burlap sack full of upturned screwdrivers. But the two agents just nodded at the statement, doing their best to be cordial to the man who was their only lead at the moment.

James Trenton sighed while strumming his fingers across the chair's worn creases. "The Arc Monitor. That's a name I thought was erased from the face of every document in the Alliance, physical and electronic. I'm surprised you two were even able to get ahold of its original title."

Cole nodded. "It wasn't easy. We jumped through more hoops than we should've to find out what we did. Nearly got killed along the way."

The Captain frowned bitterly. "Figures. Stuffed shirts in the Alliance would wanna pretend the past never occurred, instead of acknowledging that they're not always right. Bunch of pompous fools is what they are, and always have been."

He leaned forward conspiratorially in his chair. "How much were you two able to uncover? Any holes I can fill in?"

"We were able to get ahold of the remaining ship files that were originally encoded," Ardarius explained. "The transfers, the suspected sedition, even a holo-image of the second captain, Alfonso Vasquez."

"Ol' Awful Alfonso," the old man chuckled. "That little sack of crap raised the bar of just how despicable a superior officer could be. Self-centered? Check. Cruel? Check. Aristocratic? Check. Only redeeming quality about that spindly devil was how well he maintained his moustache. That little swab of facial hair was practically his son, and might've been for all we cared."

He paused. "But, if you already know enough about the ship's past, why'd you come to me at all? I was barely the captain for a month before the Alliance booted my keister out."

"We thought you might have an idea of where the ship might've gone after it disappeared," Cole said. "If any of the crew was able to contact you if they were still alive. We understand that you were popular among the originals."

The old man tightened his face in thought as he raked his mind for a brief moment. "Well, I'm not quite sure if you'd call it confirmed 'contact', but it certainly wasn't my imagining things. I wasn't old enough back then."

"Could you explain?"

The Captain nodded his head. "About eight years back, after I'd retired from the service, I'd decided to settle down here on Eden Prime. The weather was nice, good people, and it looked like I could finally put all the bad blood I had with the Alliance to rest. I could finally focus on the important things in life instead all this 'galactic politics' nonsense that the Alliance had gradually become."

"Of course, things always have a way of souring in an instant. Just half a year after moving here and settling in, the Geth attack happened. I was awoken by gunfire that morning, ran outside to do what I could. Damn machines had leveled a good part of my neighborhood and strung up most of the folks livin' there on dragon teeth. You know, those pointy metal things that turn people into husks?"

"Anyway, I was able to bag a few of the tin men before I found a few wounded just down the street. I brought them into my house and did what I could. We stayed nestled in my attic the entire day before the all-clear signal was given. The Geth were gone, but the damage was done."

"Everybody got hit in the depression that came afterwards. Economy had gone to hell and I still had the mortgage to pay on my home. My military pension wouldn't be able to cover it, especially not the damage it'd as well taken. I was staring homelessness right in the face for some weeks, contemplating if I'd made the right decision settling down in the first place."

He exhaled deeply. "And then there was a knock on the door one night. When I answered the door, whoever it'd been had already ran off. What they left though was a simple looking box addressed to me. Bringing it inside, I placed it on my kitchen table and sliced the cardboard open with some scissors...and then almost had a heart attack at what I saw."

"Wrapped in wax paper, glimmering under my table lamp, was cluster of diamonds, still clumped together by a red rock at its base. And inside the paper, was a note, as well addressed to me, reading: 'We'll never forget our real captain.'"

"Now, I don't need to be the second coming of Sherlock Holmes to know who sent that package. But how it got there and where it had come from is a mystery to itself. Needless to say, I used that clump of crystals to pay off my debts and finally get back on my feet. And well, I guess you can say the rest is history."

"Do you still have any of the crystals with you?" Ardarius asked.

The Captain nodded. "As a matter of fact, I do. I couldn't bear selling off all of them, so I kept the largest slab around as a memento." He rose from the chair and wandered out of the room for a moment. "I think I still have it in my bedroom...just a moment."

Trenton exited the room and returned a few seconds later, holding a tall, pinkish and perfectly cut diamond between his fingers. The gem was about as tall as a pencil and as thick as a quarter. Yet, the Captain didn't seem to have any trouble holding the object up for both of them to see, gesturing for them to look at it.

"Pretty impressive, eh?" He said as the two agents walked over to him. "If you shine a flashlight through it when it's dark outside the beam gets split like a shotgun. I can show you boys, if you want."

Cole held up a palm and shook his head. "That's fine. May I…?" He cast an earnest look at the gem. The old man handed it to him with a friendly nod.

As his fingers wrapped around the object, he expected a massive shift of weight to be felt in such a robust and significant chunk crystal. Instead, the diamond was lighter than a feather and almost felt malleable in his inquisitive grip.

Trenton, noticing his surprise, chuckled. "I had the same reaction when I first picked it up. Not like any crystal I've ever seen. Jeweler gave me quite the penny for the ones I sold him, but even he couldn't pin down where they came from. If that doesn't yell 'strange,' then I don't know what does."

"Would you mind if we ran some tests on it back on our ship?" Ardarius asked as Cole continued to run the object curiously through his fingers. "We'd be able to get it back to you as soon as we were finished. It might be crucial to our investigation."

The old man's face winced uncomfortably at the question, his palms beginning to fidget slightly. "I, um, would be happy to let you borrow it, just as long as you promise to look after it and you'll get it back to me the instant you're done with it. That crystal, it's all I have to remember my old crew by. I would never want to lose that, for their sake."

Ardarius gave a formal dip of his head. "I promise we'll be careful with it. This little gem might just be the key to finding out what happened to your crew, Captain. You're doing them a great service."

Captain James Trenton smiled in admiration at the statement, his face brightening at the turian's words.

Chuckling to himself once again, he began to open his mouth to say something when a nearby window suddenly shattered. Half a moment later, a massive explosion ripped through the interior of the house, tossing all three men through the room in the ensuing shockwave.


	17. Line of Fire

Cole awoke to a sore feeling in his back and the smell of fire all around him. He could hear the distant wail of emergency sirens and see the burning interior of what had once been Captain James Trenton's home.

Rising to his feet, he looked already the flaming living space and spotted Ardarius lying face down against the blackened floor.

"Ardarius," he called to him, only managing a weak shout.

He hobbled over to his partner and bent down beside him on one knee.

"Ardarius," he said again, nudging the turian with his elbow.

The turian gave out a small groan as he lifted his head off the floor, eyes examining the room in weakened bewilderment.

"By the Spirits," he exclaimed, "what happened in here?"

Cole gradually helped his partner back to his feet, allowing the larger turian to use his shoulder as support.

"I think a bomb went off, chucked straight through one of the windows."

Ardarius grunted as they limped towards the door, doing their best to avoid the spreading fire. "Then I think we know just who sent it our way."

Cole nodded. Grant, I know. He's more than likely still out there, watching to see what we do next. We'll have to lose him somehow."

"There's no time to slink around through back alleys trying to avoid him. We need to get back to the ship as quickly as possible. There's a chance he might think we're dead."

The human bit his lip anxiously. "Grant isn't as arrogant as he seems. He always tried his best when it came to thoroughness on a mission. He won't stop until he's sure we're taken care of."

"Cole, I can safely say my leg's broken in at _least_ two places right now. From the way you're walking you more than likely have a few burns your adrenaline's keeping at bay. Neither of us has the energy to try and lose someone who already has the upper hand."

"But-"

"Look," the turian interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him as he shakily moved off the human's shoulder. "We can try to mix in with the emergency crowd that's no doubt outside by now. That'll give us at least a head start. Okay?"

Cole sighed. "I guess that's the best we can manage then. Alright." He began to reach for the doorknob but stopped himself suddenly, looking around the burning room. "Wait a minute, what about Trenton?"

Ardarius tapped him on the shoulder and gestured to a disembodied arm at the other side of the room, lying in a discomforting splatter of blood.

"I don't mean to be a pessimist, but I don't think Captain Trenton made it."

* * *

Grant watched from the fourth story rooftop at the unfolding scene. His stomach rested against the concrete terrace in a prone position, almost invisible to even a careful observer.

A cluster of emergency workers, firefighters, and curious onlookers were forming around the burning house, doing their best to contain (or observe) the inferno that he'd started.

Through the scope of his sniper rifle, he could see two figures emerge from inside, covered in soot, but otherwise unharmed. It was Cole and the turian from Delmarva.

"Damn it," he cursed.

The incendiary explosive he'd launched through the window was supposed to have an immediate blast radius of 30m. Either the two agents had anticipated his attack in the first place or they were both incredibly lucky.

He zoomed in on Cole's head, finger coiling around the weapon's trigger smoothly. If he couldn't make the two miserable agents' deaths at least mildly covert, he'd just have to try a more direct route. A bullet between the eyes always was the guaranteed solution to life's problems.

But just before he was ready to fire, the crowd of emergency workers practically crashed into the two barely injured agents, surrounding them on all sides and concisely blocking his shot.

He cursed again, zooming back out.

No way would he be able to take the shot, not with so many innocents and potential witnesses in the way. The Council always preferred when their agents kept their ops clean, especially when it came to those who didn't need to know about them in the first place. They'd tolerate a few civilian casualties here and there, but never witnesses. He tolerated neither.

The two agents flashed their badges at the emergency workers and gestured to one of the ambulance speeders. They pointed off towards the spaceport as they spoke to EMTs, all the while clutching the precious badges to solidify their false authority.

One of the emergency workers nodded and led them into the vehicle as if invited guests. A few seconds later, the craft lifted up into the air gradually and shot off towards the south, zipping right overhead from where he lied in wait.

Once he was sure the speeder was out of sight, he straightened himself back to his feet.

"Great," he mumbled to himself as he picked up his rifle. "Just great."

Once again his targets had slipped through his fingers, once again he hadn't succeeded in his mission. He'd, of course, keep both facts undisclosed until the op was finally taken care. He'd already failed once to the Council and admitted to it; he didn't need to do it again.

Grantreminded himself as he packed up his equipment that he'd still been able to place a tracker on their ship before staking out the building, filling him with some consolation that his opportunity to kill them was far from fleeting. He'd just have to wait until they touched down again and left themselves open.

Until then...he'd be waiting.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Sion here.**

 **So as you probably noticed, this chapter's a little on the short side. This is because final exams are starting in two days at my college and I'm concisely swamped with studying until they're over. On the bright side, that means summer vacation is just around the corner, which will give me plenty of time to continue writing for you amazing people on this site!**

 **What's been made apparent to me in this past month, however, is that I may have bitten off a tad more than I can chew. To elaborate, I still have A LOT more in mind for the characters and plot as this story unfolds. So much in fact that I'll probably need to split it up into two separate stories. I'd been aware of this for sometime but had been clinging to the hope of finding a comfortable middle ground that would've allowed me to fit everything in but not split it into a separate story. Evidently, this didn't happen. :(**

 **Either way, expect a much longer chapter next week and hopefully more status updates (I'm very bad at online interactions so please bear with me). Also, shoutout to RheasHelm for their very helpful (and much appreciated!) reviews on the chapters. I always love feedback and comments from you guys.**

 **Well, that's all for now. I'll see you guys next week! :)**


	18. Into the Void

"Well, it's certainly not in any of our galactic records," Septimus said as he held up the crystal Ardarius and Cole had retrieved from Eden Prime. "Forensics were able to determine a completely alien chemical composition between its atoms."

Ardarius flicked his mandibles in curiosity, the days of near non-stop space travel practically becoming a part of his haggard appearance. "What does that mean, sir?"

"It means," the older turian put the object down on the conference room table, "that what you two were given by Captain Trenton is an entirely new mineral by our accounts. Was the man able to give you any information regarding its whereabouts?"

Cole shook his head. "No. But he believed it to have originated from his old crew on the _Luptuse_. If he'd known more, it wouldn't matter now. He's dead."

Septimus nodded. "Yes, I read your report on the matter. This former Alliance agent again. Are you sure it was him?"

"I can't think of anyone else who'd take aim at us a second time."

"Unless these elements within the Alliance have other dark agents at their disposal," Ardarius added as he looked to Cole and then Septimus. "Have you brought this up with ANI yet, sir?"

The grey turian sighed. "No, I've not. As much as I'd love to keep the both of you out of harm's way, an accusation of conspiracy would only stir up diplomatic tensions without actually solving the problem. Whoever or whatever is behind these attempts on your lives apparently has covered their tracks well enough in the past. Rooting them out would be a tedious and costly endeavor."

"So what do we do then, Agent Septimus?" Cole asked with a touch of anxiousness. "Tracking down the _Luptuse_ is only going to be harder with Grant gunning after us at every turn. There has to be something we can do."

"Fortunately, I have good news regarding your predicament. I've just received word that the _Luptuse_ will no longer be an issue."

" _What_?" Ardarius sputtered as if insulted, mandibles flipping open entirely. "That doesn't make any sense!"

The older turian glared at his counterpart's outburst. "The batarian docking code you two were able to find at the X28 Facility, we were able to track the frequency to its source after getting through its encryption. Our indications show that the dreadnought is somewhere inside an asteroid belt in the Norquist System, close to the border with the Terminus. This case has nearly wrapped itself up, Agent Cosbius."

"The Hierarchy and Alliance have dispatched a joint fleet to scope out the area and eliminate whatever they find. Once they're finished, all we'll have to do is sort through the scraps and I.D the parties responsible."

Cole winced at the statement. "Agent Septimus, doesn't this seem a little too...convenient? I mean, after all the toil Ardarius and I went through, all the investigating we did, do you really think the _Luptuse_ would just turn up this suddenly? The mistake of not deleting the docking codes is such a simple error; you'd think someone thorough enough to erase themselves from the mainstream Alliance archives would be a little more cautious."

"An opportunity has presented itself, Agent Cole," Septimus replied with a stern edge. "Your government, as well as the Hierarchy, wishes to take that opportunity at its face value. Caution in these situations is necessary, but we must strike when we still have the choice to do so. We may not get another chance like this."

He hurriedly turned to leave. "I've got to run to a meeting with the Admiralty Board. We still need to talk about your after action statements for later so don't go anywhere." The turian dashed out of the room, both agents watching him as the doors swished shut behind him.

"This feels wrong," Ardarius declared. "No way was that docking code left there by mistake."

Cole raised an eyebrow. "You think it was deliberate?"

"More than likely, yes. I think we're being played for idiots on this one by someone who knows at least partially how the system works."

"But who then?"

"I'm not sure, but it sure as hell aren't a bunch of batarians. Our culprit, whoever they are, have been a lot smarter than any of those four eyed numbskulls ever could. They've used violence when necessary but as well as cunning. If any merc company or slaver group had a dreadnought that size, they'd use its batteries every chance they got until someone stepped up to stop them."

Cole tapped his foot pensively. "That still doesn't explain how Grant fits into all this."

"You have a theory?"

"Something like that. I've been thinking, about what you said, and what _he_ said to us. Maybe he is working for someone in the Alliance but what if they're not actually behind the attacks?"

"What do you mean?"

"Remember what we found on the _Luptuse_ files and what Trenton told us? Mutiny was written all over that ship, a ship that the old Earth governments of America and England poured massive amounts of their resources into it. So imagine that ship suddenly disappearing due to circumstances that were out of your control, caused indirectly by what the burgeoning Alliance did, and you're still the one left holding the bag. What do you do then?"

Ardarius thought about is for a moment. "I'd cover it up. Make sure nobody ever discovered my involvement."

"Exactly."

"But how would that be possible if these people weren't part of the Alliance to start with? They wouldn't have the connections or the power to do so."

"For a time that was the case, until the Alliance made it clear they were the new order on Earth. From there the people involved no doubt got a nice, lofty position based upon their previous status among their old countries, perfect for tampering with the information that they wanted to bury. Probably took them a few years to work everything out, but in the end, they almost covered their tracks without a trace."

Ardarius flicked his mandibles in curiosity. "You'd think someone would've brought its disappearance up after it'd happened. That expensive of a ship doesn't just go unnoticed."

"Keep in mind that this was just after the First Contact War. The revelation that humanity wasn't the only intelligent species in the galaxy and the fact that a preexisting organization run by these aliens had been in place for thousands of years held a bit more priority than a missing dreadnought. Things were much different back then."

"Point taken," the turian sighed. "But what do we do now? If everyone else is convinced that they've found the guilty party, where does that leave us?"

"Well, obviously that means we keep on investigating."

"With what? What leads to we even have at this point?"

Cole reached over to the table and held up the mysterious crystal between his thumb and pointer finger. "This."

"Septimus said it doesn't appear on any of our records. We'd only be wasting our time if we scanned it again."

The human grinned. "Ah, but that was on Hierarchy records, not Alliance ones. I'm sure the memory stick has at least a passing reference to the crystal's origin." He fished around in his pockets for a moment until pulling out a fresh white memory stick.

"You brought another one of those?" The turian asked in disbelief.

Another grin. "I know, I know, double the responsibility and all. But you wouldn't honestly think I'd only have one copy of the Alliance archives on me? Flying back to Washington just to get another one of these is the last thing I would've wanted."

Ardarius only shook his head. "I'll never understand you, Maxton Cole."

"That's what my parents say to me all the time. Now hush. I'm going to run a few scans. This should only take a second."

A red scanning trail from Cole's omni-tool swept over the crystal clinched between his fingers. The projection of light moved back and forth for nearly a minute, a slight whirring coming from his omni-tool. A few commands were tapped into the device while he worked, eyes squinting at the results steadily being read back to him.

Ardarius noted the increasingly perturbed look on Cole's face the longer he glanced at the image, his avian eyes flicking back and forth to the other agent and his omni-tool. "What's it say?"

"Apparently, the crystal is a naturally occurring substance from a gas giant's upper atmosphere. It's some form of precipitation stored in its clouds."

"And where is this gas giant."

Cole grunted. "In the Terminus Systems."

"That's not exactly the best place to be flying a Hierarchy ship," the turian pointed out. "We'll have to be careful with where we fly. Either way, it looks like we have our next stop. I'll message Tris to make sure he has a ship ready."

"Are you sure Septimus is going to be okay with that? Taking a ship to the Terminus, continuing an investigation that he thinks is almost over?"

Ardarius grinned mischievously. "Who said anything about telling Septimus?"


	19. Wrath

Siana was more than confused as to what had become of her situation.

For the past several days the _Arc Monitor_ had been making repeat, if not random jumps all across the galaxy, not once stopping along what felt like an endless gauntlet of intergalactic travel. No matter how many times they moved to one system, they would just as soon jump to the one adjacent. It was starting to grate on her nerves, especially the stomach ones.

They'd stopped for the time being, idly hovering by a nameless asteroid belt in a likewise nameless system. The scorched Captain Larris stood a few paces away from her on ship's bridge, casting a satisfied smile at the unimportant mass of floating rocks.

"Is there a reason we're waiting here?" She asked the Captain, trying to keep her voice both formal but inquisitive.

"Yes," he replied with a reptilian hiss of his voice. "A critical reason, in fact."

"Could you perhaps explain?"

"Come now, Lieutenant; I hope I don't have to explain everything to you." He stepped back and gestured grandly to the bridge's viewscreen. "Look at it carefully. I'm sure you'll recognize it."

Siana stared at the at the sea of spinning, swirling, rotating chunks of minerals. There didn't appear to be anything special about them. Some were larger than others; some were more symmetrical than others. But for what it was worth, there seemed to be nothing of significance to the pointless jumble of ore.

Until she remembered.

Watching the surprise slowly spread across her face, Larris's grin furthered in content as he waited for her answer.

"This was the place you were orbiting when we-"

"Had that little conversation of ours," he finished. "And while I enjoyed the topics we discussed, I'm sure you can recount something else occurring while we spoke. Were you paying attention?"

"Those drones," she mumbled. "You sent out all of those drones into the belt. Why?"

"As a deterrent against the visitors we'll be getting. The _Arc Monitor_ is a competent ship, but she's not invincible. We're going to need some extra assurance just in case things don't go our way."

Siana crossed her arms. "By 'visitors' I take that you mean attacking ships?"

"Yes," he nodded, "that they are."

"But you're ready for them. You knew they were coming in the first place. That's why you set everything up beforehand." She paused as the pieces began to fall into place. "You led these 'visitors' here on purpose."

He shrugged. "If they had the foresight to see through the little ruse I left at X28 Facility they wouldn't be in danger. Needless to say, their lack of such skills will lead them right into the trap that's been prepared for them."

Her mandibles twitched in curiosity. "Who's 'them' exactly?"

"The Systems Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy. Although if only one of them decides to take the bait, that's fine as well. Fewer targets to consider once things get interesting. That being said, I should care to remind you that-"

A nearby terminal began to beep lowly. Larris turned immediately towards it, ending the conversation there.

"Have you detected something?" He asked as he briskly approached the station's operator.

The crewman nodded. "Yessir. Our long range scanners have picked up four destroyers entering the area."

"Can you determine of whom they belong to?"

"From the frequencies being emitted it appears that two are Alliance craft, while the other two are Hierarchy."

Larris pushed away from the terminal, his scorched, lipless skin creasing along the edges of his mouth. "Looks like we're in luck then. Equal devastation for both sides. Just the kind we need."

"Sir?" Another crewman called to him. "How should we proceed in our movement pattern?"

"Move the ship slightly to port but keep us rested in the same position. We don't want to make our presence known yet."

"What're you doing?" Siana asked with an edge as she felt the ship begin to sway slightly towards the asteroid belt.

"Preparing for what is to come next," Larris answered.

Her eyes narrowed. "Stop being vague about this. Just what the hell is going on?"

"Destroyers are now entering the asteroid field," an operator called to them.

"You're not entitled to that information," Larris replied.

"And yet you keep on teasing it. Besides, I bet I'm going to find out sooner or later so you might as well end the surprise here. You're not impressing anyone with that demeanor of yours."

"Destroyers twenty-five percent into the field center."

The Captain grit his teeth fiercely at her comment, eyeing daggers at her through his pupil-less eyes. "I hope this is some strange sense of humor you military types like. Because if that attitude of yours is sincere, I may have to respond less than kindly to prisoner insubordination." His fingers grazed across the barrel of his holstered pistol.

"Destroyers fifty percent to the field center."

"Are you gonna shoot me?" She challenged without fear. "In front of everyone? Right before your 'master plan' kicks off? I know you're too civil for that, no matter how much you say otherwise."

"Destroyers eighty percent to the field center."

"Fine then, you want the truth so bad?" He turned to the operator whom he'd previously been speaking with. "Do it."

The crewman, a salarian, looked aghast to the order. "B-But, sir. The ships haven't entered the centermost-"

"Just do it," he repeated. "If there's anything left we'll clear it out with the particle beam."

The salarian nodded and keyed in a quick command to the console. "The primer's are charged. It only awaits your command code."

Larris inclined his head and pinged open his omni-tool. Without any fanfare, he pressed onto the holographic display.

It was hard to tell what had happened at first. The asteroid belt seemed to suddenly increase in diameter, spreading outwards in a massive wave of mineral debris. They were in safe enough range not to be impacted by any of the larger debris, but smaller projectiles still tintered harmlessly against the armored hull. If she closed her eyes, it would've sounded like nothing more than a hailstorm.

And then she noticed the silent shockwaves, bright blue masses that appeared and dissipated in bursts all across the floating sea of rocks. Everything within in it was reduced to mid-sized boulders hurdling around in all directions. Massive formations nearly the size of a starship were torn apart in an instant, scattering its remnants every which way in the chaotic swirl of rock.

She could make out the tumbling husks of Alliance and Hierarchy ships drift among the soundless wreckage, still bombarded on all sides by unceasing rounds of cracked asteroids. Fuel and element zero poured out of the mauled vessels, only adding to the chaotic storm of destruction that continued to billow outwards.

Suddenly it all made sense, suddenly all the days of preparation and testing had converged into a singular point of intersection. Now.

"You killed them!" She shouted at him, hands clenching into fists. "You killed them all! All those people, all those soldiers, murdered!"

"They would've done the same to us," he countered smoothly. "I merely took advantage of-"

His words were cut short as Siana brought a solid strike directly onto the side of his head. Larris swung sideways in a slight daze, stunned for just a moment as Siana readied herself into a fighting pose.

"You're gonna pay for all the lives you took," she hissed.

The guards stationed on the bridge began to converge towards where she stood, shock batons ignited and held at the ready.

"No," Larris stopped them with an outstretched palm, "don't lay a hand on her." He threw down the Alliance captain's tunic he wore across his back while unzipping his khaki field jacket, as well letting it drop to the floor. "If she wishes to fight, I'll indulge her. She'll learn something through it."

He charged towards her, white bandaged arms pumping ominously as he sprinted. Just before he was within a few feet of her defensive line, Siana stepped out of the way and brought another fist to his torso.

To her shock, he caught her arm around the wrist.

She looked up to the taller human male in surprise, coming eye to eye with his hellish face. "You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you?"

He tossed her aside like she was a bag of feathers, sending her tumbling to the unforgiving steel floor. Siana recovered with a brief roll back to her feet, straightening herself back into a readied stance. It would take a lot more than that to stop her.

"You've got style for a woman of your years," he chided with a friendly if not confident smirk.

"Says the middle-aged burn victim."

"Now that's just rude."

Larris charged back towards her; arms kept close to his sides in anticipation for her next frontal attack. But instead, she dropped down to the ground, delivering a crouched kick into his right kneecap, the joint bending slightly under her force of impact.

Groaning in pain, the Captain jumped backward from her range of attack, almost seeming to collapse as his wounded leg touched the ground.

Confident she had her opportunity, Siana lunged towards him with another fist aimed for his head. But, just like the time before, he was already one step ahead, narrowly dodging her strike as he brought an elbow savagely against her forehead.

Starbursts appeared in her vision as she felt her nerves concisely lose all singularity with one another. She felt her body crumpled to the ground as the entire room seemed to careen into a disjointed rotation.

"You have determination; I'll give you that," she could hear the distorted voice of Larris say as he stood over her, placing the heel of his boot against her throat. "But when it's all said and done, effort only goes so far."

"Why…?" She mumbled still grasping for her senses. "Why are you doing this...?"

Larris's face darkened. "Because it was necessary. Their deaths were planned from the start, a trigger for larger events to come. And while it's tragic they had to die; they'll be saving countless lives with their sacrifice."

"What are you...talking about?"

Larris knelt down on one knee as he answered. "Do you know how many people live in the Terminus Systems, Lieutenant? Do you know how many people brave the lawlessness and danger just to try and look for a better life, away from all the toils of this galaxy? Quite a few actually, from all races and walks of life. The Terminus Systems are a reset button for some people, a shining opportunity for anyone determined enough to begin again."

"But, like all good things, it comes with a price. That being that the Council Races soundly leave the Terminus to its own affairs. Sounds good, right? Allowing independence and alternative forms of government to take hold in places that desire it? Looks great on paper, looks great on newsfeeds. But in the real world? Not so much."

"Because you see, these 'affairs' all the warlords and chieftains and presidents-for-life control in the Terminus, are a little less than savory for your average 6 o'clock news viewer. Murder, rape, enslavement. Daily living conditions for those unfortunate enough to invoke the wrath of these 'independents' and something that's been the sad status quo for quite some time."

"And you know what's ridiculous about all this? It doesn't have to be this way. The Alliance and the Hierarchy, two of the largest fleets in the known Galaxy, helm to millions of well-trained and disciplined combatants ready at a moment's notice, could make it all go away. In the blink of an eye, any problem in the Galaxy could be scorched into oblivion by these titanic forces of power."

"But they don't, nobody does. Everybody just continues along their merry way, ignorant, disconcerned to the suffering that's happening right at this moment. It could be stopped, it could've always been stopped, but nobody's willing to lift a finger to do what's necessary. Despite all the goodness these people are supposed to stand by, the people of the Terminus have always been left to suffer."

He straightened himself back to his feet. "I aim to change that. What's happened here today has already sent in a motion a chain of events that cannot be stopped. Soon, there will finally be justice in this wretched place."

"Sir," an operator called over, "one of the destroyers is still showing functionality. How should we proceed?"

"Activate the particle beam," Larris remarked as he rested his arms behind his back. "We can't leave any survivors for either governments."

"What do you want us to do with her, sir?" One of the guards asked, gesturing their baton down at where Siana lay.

Larris frowned. "Take her away. Place her in one of the holding cells down in the brig. I no longer wish to speak with her."

And with that, Siana was gruffly lifted up into the air by two black-armored guards, her vision gradually fading as they began to move her.


	20. Priority One

The center ship console began to ping with an incoming transmission. Eyeing the notification, Ardarius glanced down from the controls at the small readout screen.

"Looks like Septimus is trying to reach us," the turian remarked with a look to Cole.

"I doubt he's very happy with us," the human replied. "Taking a requisitioned vessel close to the Terminus Systems without express permission could land us both in hot water."

Ardarius waved the notion aside. "I've done stuff like this before, don't worry. And when I do, he knows it's for a good purpose." He glanced back at the console. "Still, the fact that he's waited this long to contact us makes me wonder…"

He reached down and keyed to accept the transmission. Immediately upon pressing the button, a distinct hiss of static began to crackle through their comm network, the frequency suffering partial distortion from their present FTL speeds.

" _Ardarius, Cole,_ " the voice of Septimus sputtered through the terminal, the ends of his words getting carried away by the electronic interference. " _Where did you two go? Why can't I find you at HQ?_ "

"We had to follow up on a lead, sir," Ardarius said into the machine, eyes focusing back on the ship controls.

" _Lead?_ " The disembodied voice repeated.

Cole nodded, more to himself than to the elder turian who couldn't see him either way. "Yessir. It was the crystal we were given on Delmarva. A quick scan with Alliance expeditionary records points to it originating from an unnamed gas giant close to the Terminus Systems. We're en route now to investigate."

There was a pause of Septimus's end for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his words struck with a raw iciness.

" _You both weren't given the authorization to do that, especially with HIA property. And the fact that you withheld your findings when they could've served-_ "

"With all due respect, sir," Ardarius cut in. "You weren't present in the room when we uncovered this information, information that was acquired from a secure Alliance network that Cole isn't obligated to give either of our access to. Your attention instead was focused on the fleet tracking the readout from-"

" _The fleet's been destroyed,_ " Septimus interrupted coldly. " _Two Hierarchy and two Alliance destroyers cut to ribbons in seconds. No survivors on either side._ "

"What?!" Cole blurted in shock. "How the hell did that happen?"

" _Recovery crews are still picking through the remains. What they've been able to determine was that an entire asteroid belt was detonated once all four vessels were within close enough range. Despite their shielding, there was no way their mass effect fields would be able to resist so many impacts at once._ "

"And I take it our friendly little dreadnought was nowhere in sight?" Ardarius added through grit teeth.

" _Reports were filled by several shipping freighters just minutes afterward of a large, unmarked military vessel using the Halgoa Relay System. And as you both know, there's only one Relay network it's connected to._ "

"The Terminus Systems..." Cole breathed in realization.

" _Exactly. Although we don't know where the ship went, we're currently sending out over a dozen information requests to the largest confederations inside the Terminus. On top of that, a diplomatic team from the Council is being dispatched to further investigate the matter. Someone has to be harboring this damned dreadnought; they aim to find out who._ "

Ardarius's mandibles flicked in agitation. "Who's to say the dreadnought is even being harbored there in the first place? Whoever is piloting the thing could've just had easily maneuvered the _Luptuse_ back to the Traverse or Council Space once the coast seemed clear."

Despite communicating through a comm network, he could tell that Septimius was scowling as he spoke. " _The only conceivable groups who'd be willing to destroy four Council Race's destroyers and have the firepower to do so would be one of the capital ships utilized by the Terminus warlords._ "

" _They would know all too well as to the settlement of Council governments staying out of the Terminus unless absolutely necessary, granting them impunity in matters they see fit. Furthermore, your theory as to these attacks being perpetrated by 'terrorists with covert Alliance backing' is ludicrous at best. There'd be no motivation present for them to destroy ships in their own fleet, even if it was undertaken by some misguided admiral or politician._ "

" _As for Agent Cole's former colleague, 'Grant,' his involvement is more than likely of complete unrelated circumstances. For all we know, he too could be working with these terrorists and was merely bluffing in what he mentioned on Delmarva. Whatever the reason may be, his presence in all this is inconsequential to the larger objective._ "

Ardarius's hands tightened on the ship controls. "And what does that detail?"

" _Finding and neutralizing the Luptuse is priority number one. Both the Alliance and Hierarchy are more than outraged to what has occurred and want this problem dealt with as soon as possible._ "

"Agent Septimus," Cole interjected, "don't you think we should at least consider all the circumstances in this? There's still several unknowns that need to be looked into before such drastic action is taken."

" _That's neither your or my place to decide, Agent Cole. This situation is now a military one. Thus, you two are ordered to return to Palaven and await further instruction._ "

Ardarius shook his head. "I'm afraid we can't do that, sir. We've been chasing this case too far to turn back now. What we're looking into might just be the break we've all been looking for."

There was a pause on Septimus's line. " _Ardarius...resisting a direct order from HIA Command would result in an insubordination discharge. Are you sure you want to do this?_ "

"I'd only get discharged if we're wrong about this. And I think you know we're at least partially onto something. You have to at least give us that."

The older turian sighed. " _Alright then, have it your way. Just don't expect any backup on whatever you're doing. I think you'd already know what the answer would be._ "

Ardarius nodded. "That's how it's always been after all. I'll talk to you soon, Septimus."

" _Good luck out there you two. I think you're gonna need it_."

The comm line went dead. As soon as the frequency closed, Ardarius let out a heavy exhale as if breathing for the first time in ages.

"Well, I guess that about seals our fate," Cole remarked. "Either we solve the case or don't come back at all."

The sandy-plated turian smirked. "Hey, keep in mind that this is all on my head. Despite my composed and handsome expression saying otherwise, my job is on the line if we don't find what we're looking for."

"And we will," Cole assured. "Just stay sharp and things will turn out okay. It's worked for us this far. Why stop now?"

* * *

 **Hey everyone, Sion here. So, as it's pretty obvious, there's been quite a lapse since the last chapter to update about three weeks ago. This is mostly due to real-world shenanigans as well as frequent bouts of writer's block shutting down my progress. Thankfully, I was able to edit this chapter and have completed a few others since then and will try to stick with a more consistent schedule of updates (as I originally had this year).**

 **Also, major shout out to** **mad9172 for his comment a few days ago. The concise but effective encouragement was honestly what propelled me to get this dang chapter finished and I couldn't have done it without him. Thank you all so much for continuing to read and I appreciate how understanding you guys have been these past weeks.**


	21. Velvet Curtain

The crimson gas giant came into view as the HIA vessel slowed in its approach. Trickles of nebula permeated across the planet's orbit and beyond like a billowing cloud of luminous dust. Ardarius did his best to steer away from the gaseous masses scattered about the vacuum but still grazed the edges of the troublesome concentrations, the layered wing tips piercing through in all their symmetrical glory.

Thus, the two agents' long range and short range sensors were little more than fuzzy masses of static that on occasion emitted an image that could be discernable. This surprised neither of them considering their shared experience in interstellar space travel. The environmental jamming effects caused by nebulas almost went in tandem with hiding criminals, and the lawmen tasked with finding them.

"Just Like pea soup," Cole remarked as he caught another glance at the useless sensor display. "No wonder pirates love these places."

Ardarius nodded. "They're perfect for ambushes too, so keep a sharp eye out for anything unusual. A second is all they need to corner us."

They continued to float towards the gas giant at a controlled cruising speed, cautiously maneuvering with a precision only applicable to ships of their size. For several minutes, all they could hear was the low hum of the vessel's gentle propulsion forward. The dashboard keys were blinking silently as both agents scanned the viewscreen carefully.

"Hmmm," Ardarius muttered to himself as he glanced down at the ship's control display. "That's odd…"

Cole turned to him. "What's wrong?"

"According to our systems, our acceleration is increasing."

"Did you increase acceleration?"

"No, I didn't."

"Could it be some kind of malfunction on the hardware's part?"

"I doubt it. Tris gave this one a full once over just before we left Palaven. There's no way a glitch that glaring would get past him."

"What could it mean then?"

"I'm not sure, but I don't like it. Can you see anything around us? Maybe a nearby asteroid that might be impairing us magnetically?"

Cole searched in vain across the viewscreen, craning and tilting his head every which way to get a better perspective. "I don't see anything. At least, not under the gas giant's light I can." He looked back to Ardarius. "Maybe it's the planet then? Maybe all those weird crystals in its atmosphere are tampering with our systems?"

The turian shrugged. "Maybe. But the fact that something like that it took this long to occur at the speed we're going really-"

Whatever Ardarius was about to note was cut off abruptly as the HIA vessel suddenly shot forwards. Inertia smacked into both seated men as if hitting a wall, violently jostling the both of them and nearly throwing them to the floor. Ardarius's head nearly smashed straight onto the center console while Cole's neck snapped to one side like a loose crash dummy. If it hadn't been for their safety belts keeping them anchored in place, there was no telling how badly they'd have been injured.

"What the hell was that?!" Cole blurted more in exclamation over query. "Did we just hit something?"

"No," the turian replied with a look down at the ship's systems. "Our acceleration just jumped up fifty percent...by itself."

"Any reason why?"

"Yeah," the HIA agent nodded. "That."

Ardarius pointed dead ahead out the viewscreen, directly towards the gas giant's orbit. Because suspended above it, now in full view of both men, was the shadow of a massive warship hanging ominously in the distance.

It was a vessel of unbelievable size, bristling with armaments along all its sides, complimented by a thick layer of heavyset armor bonded to its outer hull. The ship's design in question was an incredibly jutted symmetry, each corner of the frame pointed sidewise like ramming spikes. For some reason, Cole couldn't help but be reminded of pictures of old Gothic cathedrals from Earth, stone testaments of humanity's might and a dreary monument of ornate terror.

What was most outstanding about it, however, was the overhanging device that lay at the ship's flat-topped bottom. It was a sloped cylinder hollowed out directly into its bow. The rest of exterior edifice around it angled downwards, the barrel of a mass driver poking out directly above the strange creviced hole.

"That's our ship," Ardarius stated with a chilling calmness. "That's the Arc Monitor."

Cole looked to the turian; lip pursed anxiously. "A-Are you sure?"

"We both saw the hologram from Uhlan, Cole. This is it."

"And it's...um, pulling us in I'm guessing?"

Ardarius nodded once again. "More than likely a tractor beam. Undetectable in an orbit this cluttered wuntil it's too late."

The human's brow furrowed. "So this was a trap? All this struggling, all this investigating, and we walked right into a trap?"

The turian seemed to snap out of his initial daze and looked at the other agent with a dutiful stare. "That doesn't mean it's over. We still have a chance to get out of this."

"How?"

Ardarius briskly stood up out of his chair and began towards the cockpit door. "Grab whatever things you need from your room and meet me by the maintenance airlock. We'll only get one chance at this."

Before Cole could even ask what the turian was planning, Ardarius was already out the door. Reluctantly, he followed after him.

* * *

"This isn't gonna work," Cole moaned as he Ardarius stood in front of him, making the last adjustments to his space suit.

"It will if you let me," Ardarius replied as he tightened the vacuum seals along the human's limbs. "There, how's that feel now?"

"Like I'm being constricted by a wearable anaconda."

"That's better than what you compared it to earlier."

"As iron maiden legwear or leather compression shorts?"

"Sounds about right." Ardarius reached over to a nearby utility locker and pulled out the appropriate helmet for the human's size. "Now try to stay still when I put this on you. Any minor movement might mess with the magnetic locks on it, and then you might have a suit breach without either of us knowing."

Cole only nodded as the fringed blue space helmet was gingerly placed atop his head. He was as stiff as a crowbar while the clunky headgear clicked in place along his torso set's neckline, a hiss of conditioned air zipping inside, an indication that he was now entirely encapsulated within the protective suit.

The human looked down at himself for a moment and then back to Ardarius. Despite his wearing of a mask, the turian could easily tell Cole was frowning. "I look ridiculous."

In the absence of any human-sized space suits on the HIA vessel, Cole had conceded to slipping into a turian set that was just about in his body frame's range. That 'range' accounted for his arms, legs, and waist being squeezed tighter than an extra small girdle better suited for a pyjak. His feet and upper torso, however, were uncomfortably loose, feet nearly slipping over the excess room he had in the footed sections while his torso repeatedly banged against the suit's interior.

What was most agonizing though was his unfortunate hands crushed into a tri-fingered turian grip, giving him next to no dexterity past slapping things with his wrists. The helmet wasn't as bad as he'd been anticipating when first laying eyes on it, only slightly larger than his head with an admittedly cool-looking fringe that curved downwards.

"I'd say it's an improvement," Ardarius noted humorously. "Maybe you'll pick up a lucky lady when we fly back to Palaven."

Cole snorted. "As much as I like my hips being collapsed in on themselves and my fingers reshaped into flippers, I think I'll pass."

The turian shrugged. "Suit yourself. Are you ready, though? The ship should be about on top of us by now."

"Yeah," he replied nervously. "I think I'm ready."

"Just hold onto my leg the entire time and we'll both be fine. Alright?"

Cole nodded. "Alright."

"Great," the turian said as he slipped on his own helmet. "Because we're only gonna get one chance at this."

Without further preamble or further consideration, Ardarius reached forward to the nearby utility panel and pinged the holographic switch with a light tap. On command, the maintenance airlock, no larger than a standard trash shoot, sprung open, thrusting both agents out into the cold vacuum of space.

It was like a nightmare at first, both men scrambling and spinning, flopping helplessly between each other in the soundless expanse, sudden weightless coming to them in a panicked daze. Eventually, Ardarius was able to steady the both of them with a few choice bursts to his in-suit repulsors, evening the two into a lying position that floated stomach-first just yards from their ship.

As Ardarius had predicted, the gargantuan dreadnought Arc Monitor, was closer than they'd last seen it, now less than a mile from their ensnared ship. It floated calmly in the distance, almost inviting (or daring) them forwards with its imposing, angular exterior. Whoever had designed its layout was either someone with a passion for the macabre or a maniac for symmetry. Both seemed like likely options.

The crimson gas giant still spanned with breathtaking size below them, appearing even larger from where they hovered.

The turian craned his neck around to Cole and waved his hand slightly to get his attention.

"I'm about to boost us the rest of the way," he clarified over their linked comms. "You still holding on?"

Cole nodded. "For dear life."

"Then you're doing just fine."

The human could see Ardarius begin to fiddle with his omni-tool for a brief moment, only putting it away once the two began to accelerate forwards. They started at an even pace, increasing with each passing moment, bits of space dust zipping by them faster and faster. Cole felt his grip tighten instinctively on the turian's leg; eyes glazed open as they came closer to the ship.

It was a wondrous yet terrifying experience. Flying through space almost entirely exposed to the elements. No safety net for either of them and no chance of rescue. Even a slight miss-projection by Ardarius or a sudden movement by Cole could send the both of them hurtling into oblivion, maundering hopelessly until eventually succumbing.

Yet both men felt excitement rush through them as they flew through the empty void, speeding steadily towards the dreadful ship they'd been hunting for what seemed like an eternity. They were close to the end; both could feel it. How they'd get there was anyone's guess, but they would get there.

What awaited them inside, what challenges it might bring were still a mystery. That was the only aggravating factor present in their minds. After so much searching and investigation, they still knew so little about what they were looking for. A horrifying possibility of them not even finding it was something they would avoid at all costs but questioned if it would occur either way.

If there was anything there extended journey across the galaxy had taught them, was that no matter how hard they tried, control wasn't always in their hands. Someone else was always pulling the strings, manipulating, commanding. Grant's presence was proof to that, as was the purposeful obscurity of the ship they were almost upon.

Once inside, maybe they'd finally uncover the insufferable velvet curtain that had been thrust over their entire investigation. There were answers inside the dreadnought formerly known as the Arc Monitor; the two agents would have to find them.


	22. Fleeting Trail

Captain Samuel Larris looked over the security officer in front of him with a queried expression. He didn't recognize the individual, an average built male quarian who was doing his best to hold a nervous composure under his gaze. That marked him as fresh blood.

All the longstanding crewman had grown accustomed to his raw, blood-red skin and piercing white eyes. They treated him as any other naval Captain, like he was an average person. Those who weren't accustomed, no matter what race they were, always had the same reaction. Outward formality steepled with palpable fear.

Even through the quarian's helmet, he could tell the man was sweating bullets. Despite his instinctive offense at such unnecessary fear of his appearance, Larris had to remind himself that it was an equally natural reaction. No creature was meant to look upon a being of such gruesome mastication and not recoil at the very sight of him. He was practically a walking corpse by medical standards and shouldn't have survived the crippling burns that had cursed him all those years ago.

"What did your team find, Sergeant?" He asked coolly, not betraying a hint of confrontation in the question.

"Nothing sir," the quarian replied in a panicked instant. "The ship was entirely empty."

"Was proper scanning performed by the boarding party? Was any trace of the crew recovered?"

"No sir," another frantic response. "All we found were personal items in the crew quarters. Clothing, food, those sorts of things."

"And the onboard systems?"

"Locked out, but we're in the process of hacking into them. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes."

"Good. I want a detailed report of whatever is found. This ghost ship nonsense needs to be dealt with immediately, so it doesn't interfere with our operation. Do you understand?"

"Yessir!"

He saluted the quarian who proudly returned the gesture and strode off. He couldn't help but grin in admiration.

He'd been that young and enthusiastic before. It felt like centuries to him but in reality had only been a few decades. So much had changed in those short years, it was hard to recount that he'd lived through all of them. He didn't have much care overtly dramatizing what he'd been through, but the bright-eyed young ensign he'd been when the Arc Monitor was first launched felt like a different person entirely.

His changed appearance had no doubt helped in that sentiment. He was a monster through and through; there wasn't any getting past that. He'd never be able to love a woman, never be able to start a family, never be able to leave behind the conflict that dragged him down wherever he went. Every gruesome crack, crevice, and indentation in his scarred skin served as a physical reminder of that.

And yet, he couldn't help but feel a trickle of connection with Lieutenant Siana, whom he'd sent down to the brig just hours beforehand. He'd sensed such intelligence, such personality in her demeanor he couldn't help but find himself mildly intrigued by the turian woman. The conversations they'd had in passing indeed made him feel something he hadn't felt in a long time. She'd even stopped staring at him whenever she thought he wasn't looking.

But duty came first, and he couldn't handle the risk she posed. He'd already been making a gamble in keeping her aboard the bridge, clinging to the vain hope that she'd display a bit more intellectual insight to the situation she found herself in. Unfortunately, he'd misjudged just how far that sight went, loyalty to her precious Hierarchy betraying her in the end.

He began to reminiscence on how she could've reacted to the planned detonation of the asteroid field and the warships inside it. Only was the daydream forming when he heard a salarian comm operator call over to him.

"Sir?" The amphibian alien said for what sounded like one of multiple hailings. "Our technicians on the turian ship have found something."

He strolled over to the operator's workstation. "What did they find?"

"A scan of the ship' registry reveals that it originated from Palaven. Namely, the Hierarchy Intelligence Agency Headquarters."

His none existent brow furrowed. "Are you sure?"

"It's signature matches several others on our records. Same design and everything."

"And no crew has been located?"

"None at all, sir."

"That's...odd," he noted as he paced away from the console. "An HIA vessel lost in space but with no crew present. It doesn't appear damaged as if it came under attack, and yet the computer systems are still locked out to us. Strange…"

"How do you want us to proceed, sir?"

"Put the ship on minor alert," he said with a flick of his palm. "I don't like the looks of it. Anything else out of the ordinary occurs I expect to be informed of it immediately. Now isn't the time for failure."

"Yessir."

Just as he stepped away from the station, another operator, this time a human, called to him from across the bridge. "Sir, we've just received reports that the emissary ship has just left Council Space."

He nodded in approval. "Good. Chart a course to the Halgoa Relay and get the ship into position. We need to time this expertly to send the proper message."

To his word, the ship began to turn to port, guiding itself away from the gas giant as its engines rumbled to full power. In the blink of an eye, the massive dreadnought shot off into the blackness of space, leaving nothing but the fleeting trail of mass effect energy.

* * *

Ardarius and Cole were just slipping out of their space suits when the felt ship begin to turn suddenly, the interior metal of the maintenance tunnel they sat in groaning under the positioning thrusters strain. Then, without missing a beat, they could feel the ship's acceleration swell and were nearly thrown to ground in the sudden burst of inertia.

"We're moving," Cole stated as he glanced around the narrow shaft they'd been able to enter stealthily through an outboard discharge vent. "But where?"

Ardarius flicked off his suit's clumsy gloves, the last piece of his gear, and shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe they're trying to book it to the next system before people realize we're gone."

"I doubt that," the human said with a shake of his head. "The only ones who know we're gone are Septimus and your friend Tris. Our little trip wasn't recorded officially by HIA, remember?"

Ardarius did. "You're right. But I'm sure Septimus would realize we were missing. Eventually…"

"Either way, we're not going to stop who's ever behind this just waiting around. We need to go get out of here."

"And go where?"

Cole brought up his omni-tool's display for the turian to see. A mildly distorted holographic readout of the dreadnought appeared onscreen, the image's amber glow illuminating the dim tunnel.

"This was from the records we uncovered at Delmarva," the human explained. "So things could've been altered slightly since the ship was launched."

"Not significantly, though."

"Let's hope. Either way," he gestured to the lower hull of the ship, "we're all the way down here. With the bridge," the human's finger traced across the projection all the way to the ship's stern and up several notches, "is here."

"That's a lot of ground to cover. Do you think we'd be able to get there quickly?"

"I'm not sure. There's bound to be guards patrolling regions of the ship. We'll have to be careful with where we go."

"Hey," Ardarius confidently grinned, brandishing his pistol and pulling back on the hammer. "When haven't we been careful?"


	23. The Hierarchy Connection

Maneuvering through the tunnels wasn't much of a challenge for either agent. Granted, the aid of Cole's map made the experience all the less harrowing and much more dull. If they didn't have such a useful piece of navigation with them they'd have been wandering aimlessly through the near pitch black labyrinth for hours, perhaps even days.

Eventually, however, they were able to reach a rickety bulkhead that led them out into a much more illuminated corridor.

The walls on each side were archaic yet well maintained, holding a polished subterranean look characteristic of most early human spacecraft. Quaint electric tubes lit the way as they crept cautiously down the halls, checking over their shoulders to the sides consistently.

Not a soul was encountered in their first hour of tense exploration. The ship appeared derelict in its outward appearance but still bore the mark of a functioning vessel. It was a strange contrast that reminded the two agents of the tramp freighters so commonly featured on charity ads between prime time vids.

So it was with this isolation in mind that both men were startled at the echoed shouting of a woman emanating down the halls.

Without even a moment's hesitation, they trotted towards it, pistols drawn as they moved forward tactically. They followed the sound until reaching a corner leading down to where the source of the voice, now a collection of shouts, was coming from.

Taking cover in their hidden position, the two agents listened.

"Let go of me, you creeps! Let go!" The woman's voice shrieked, a twinge of sub-harmonics following its words.

"Keep moving," a gruff human voice ordered with what sounded like a shove. "We've got other things to worry about than just you. Hainaut, hold her steady, would ya'?"

"I'm tryin'," grunted the distinctly rumbling voice of a krogan. "Little turian won't stop squirmin'. Can barely keep a grip on her."

"Then hold her tighter. I don't see why this is so difficult."

"I'm _trying_. But every time I-"

The two agents didn't need to hear any more. Someone was in trouble and needed their assistance. By the sound of it, there were only two figures around the corner, both men more than capable in handling such odds.

With a look to one another and a silent unholstering of their weapons, both agents readied themselves. Springing out from cover, they raised their pistols to the air and formed a controlled line of advance, moving in with a forward precision only years of experience could offer.

"Freeze, Hierarchy Intelligence Agency!" Ardarius shouted fiercely.

"Hands up, Alliance Naval Intelligence!" Cole resounded with equal harshness.

The krogan and the human, both adorned in black body armor froze at the two agents' sudden arrival. Their expressions were stunned for a moment, looking to one another for less than a heartbeat. Something glinted in their eyes as they looked back to the agents, the two thugs beginning to reach for their weapons in what felt like slow motion.

Ardarius and Cole opened fire, the quickly delivered rounds tearing both would be attackers apart in seconds. Both creatures dropped to the floor in puddles of their own blood, unused weapons clattering to the ground.

Ardarius gave the perimeter a quick sweep of his gaze, making sure there wasn't anyone else creeping in the shadows. Satisfied with what he saw, he holstered his pistol accordingly and turned toward the woman; body still tense with expectation.

"Are you alright ma'am?" He asked professionally.

The woman nodded. She was a turian female, a few years older than he, with a thick wrapping of white bandages across her shoulder. "Yeah," she replied with a heavy exhale. "A little startled but I'm all right."

"Who are these men?" The human asked with a gesture to the two bodies, still clutching his weapon.

"They're guards of some kind," the woman answered, "ordered to take me down to the brig from what I remember."

"Who do they answer to? And why was the order issued in the first place?"

"Now hold on a minute," Ardarius held up a hand to stop him. "Before we go any further with the questions, how about you tell us your name, ma'am?"

"Lieutenant Siana Terso, Turian Eighth Fleet. I'm a psychologist posted on the _Palaven's Fire_."

"Spirits," the male turian murmured, "you're one of the lost crew members. You're all still alive?"

"I am, at least," Siana responded morosely, "but I can't say the same for the rest of the crew. We got separated after we were captured. I haven't seen any of them since."

"Did the people who captured you responsible for that wound as well?" He said with a gesture to her bandaged shoulder.

Siana glanced at the appendage. "This? Oh, no. I just took a nasty fall when our ship got caught in the tractor beam."

"So that's how they're getting people," Cole said with a look to Ardarius and back to her. "The same thing happened to our ship."

The female turian's brow furrowed skeptically at the statement. "Then how'd you two get down here in the first place?"

Ardarius couldn't help but give a proud grin. "Took an untethered space walk out our maintenance airlock. Hopefully, they weren't able to pick us up on their scanners as we floated past them."

"That's a pretty ballsy move," she complemented with a dip of her head. "So does that mean you two weren't lying about where you came from? You're both with the Hierarchy and Alliance?"

"That's right," Cole said, bringing a hand to his chest. "I'm Maxton Cole."

"And I'm Ardarius Cosbius. But since now we have everyone's names, could you perhaps explain to us just what the hell is goin' on here?"

She shrugged. "I only know what they've told me, but it's something I suppose. They're some terrorist group, comprised of a whole bunch of other races. It's all somehow linked to the Terminus Systems, and blaming these recent attacks on the warlord nations residing inside it."

"They want war…" Ardarius mumbled in horrified realization. "That's why they left their frequency after destroying the Alliance and Hierarchy Fleet. They wanted to make it seem like they were seeking asylum with the warlords, and the Council emissaries they're sending in…"

"Will be destroyed along with them," Cole finished grimly. "There won't be any way to stop this then. The Council and everyone in it will be out for blood. They wouldn't have any reason to trust the Terminus Systems after that."

Siana's mandible flicked in a surprised query, eyes darting between both men. "Wait a second, how did you two figure that out? I just told you one little-"

"We've been investigating this case since your ship first went missing," Cole said. "We've been around the galaxy and back trying to stop whosoever been behind this. That last piece you told us finally completes this damn mess."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Well, if you want to know who's behind this, I can tell you. His name's Samuel Larris, a human with burns all across his body and the captain of this ship. I'm not sure why he's doing this, but he seems to have some history with people from the Terminus. He didn't explain anything past that."

"So it looks like Vasquez isn't the captain anymore," Cole turned to Ardarius.

"Not like that's a surprise," the turian replied, "considering the circumstances. Still, that leaves the question of how we're going to stop this 'Larris' from killing the Council emissaries."

"We'll have to find some way to stop the ship and get a message out to the fleet."

"I can help with that," Siana suggested. "If you could take me to my crew, I'm sure they'd be willing to assist in any way they can...if they're still alive."

Ardarius nodded. "We can do that. Cole, which direction are the other cell blocks?"

He brought up the map display for a moment and pointed at the corridor to their right. "Down that way."

"Then we better get moving." Ardarius glanced down at the two dead bodies. "Someone's bound to notice these guys before long."

* * *

Quickly pilfering the dead guards' pockets revealed additional clips of ammunition available for the weapons they never got the chance in firing. Siana was as well able to find a stun grenade on the krogan and a shock baton from the human. Not an arsenal by any means but a weapon was still a weapon.

The three bounded down the vacant, dingy halls of the _Arc Monitor_ , thankfully encountering not a single guard in the isolated lower sections of the dreadnought. They doubted they'd have the same luck once they got up to the higher levels. If they got up to the upper levels at all.

They reached the ship's other cell block without so much as a hitch, stopping in front of the several sealed doors blocking any visual from inside. If any of Siana's crew was still alive, there was no way of telling for sure.

"Looks like we need a keycard to get these doors open," Cole pointed out. He stepped toward one of the wall terminals and bent down on one knee. "This should only take a second…"

The cell locks, while being old in construction, had a surprisingly difficult to crack code generator. It took several minutes of the human fumbling with his omni-tool's display to finally hear the internal magnetic field switch off.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he straightened himself up and gestured Siana towards the door. "Something tells me it'd be better for your face to be the first one your crew sees. They're not viable to trust a human one."

She nodded her head and stepped forward. "Agreed."

Her tri-fingered hand reached forward and pinged the door open. The cell block door slid upwards with an articulate whish, revealing the sturdy frame of an older male turian inside. He wore the white Hierarchy tunic that accentuated him as an officer of higher ranking. He eyed the three of them with a tired weariness before he realized who was standing before him.

"Siana!" The turian called out, eyes widening as he stood to attention in a flash. "You're alive! Thank the Spirits!"

"Yessir, Captain Olymrius" she replied bashfully saluting the superior officer with an ear-to-ear grin. "I'm happy to see you're safe too."

He sighed, stepping out of the narrow confinement so graciously. "You wouldn't believe how it's been down here. Not another soul for days, nothing to do but stare at the walls. The guards refused to give me any information as to your...your…" The turian only now seemed to realize the other two occupants standing in the cell block, silent as he regarded them.

"Siana," the turian officer said with a look to her, "who're these men?"

"Oh, these are Agents Maxton Cole and Ardarius Cosbius. They're with the Alliance and Hierarchy."

Olymrius raised an eyebrow to this. "So it's only now that they send in the rest of the fleet to rescue us? And where are the rest of your crews?"

"I'm sorry to say, Captain, that we're the only ones here," Ardarius said.

"But we're still here to help," Cole added. "But we're trying to stop this ship before it reaches the interior of the Terminus Systems. We were hoping you and your crew could assist us."

"I promised them we would, sir," Siana explained quickly.

The old turian shook his head with a grin. "Not much of a chain of command on this one, eh? Alright, how about a deal? If you can help us free the rest of our crew, we'll stir up any trouble you need."

"That's _exactly_ what we'll need," Cole said as he brought up a map display of the ship's lower levels. "The next cell block is only a few corridors down from here, so getting to your crew shouldn't be much of a problem. However, the engine room," he motioned to the lower rear of the ship, "is right where we need to go to shut down the mass effect drive."

"Which means you'll be running into plenty of resistance if you try even to get close," Olymrius concluded. "But if you had proper support to keep the guards off you, that should open up a good enough window to shut down their propulsion."

"What's our plan of escape after that?" Siana asked. "There's no way we can stay here."

"Our ship has more than enough space for you and your crew," Ardarius said. "If we can just get to where they docked with it, we'll be able to fly outta here and call in support."

Olymrius nodded. "Sounds like a plan then. You guys go on ahead to the engine area and wait for us. Siana and I will go get the rest of our crew."

"Take these; " Cole handed them the deceased guards' omni-tools and weapons. "I've downloaded the onboard map to the memory banks. Just message us once you've got everything ready. We'll need to time this correctly for it to work."


	24. From Within

"...S-Sir?" The salarian comm officer called over to Captain Larris nervously. "I think you need to see this."

By the tone of the amphibian's voice, the horrifically burnt man could already tell that it wasn't good news. Sighing to himself, he walked across the bridge and over to the terminal workstation where the crewman sat. The salarian gestured with a shaking hand to the monitor.

"Sir...um, it appears that-"

He nodded. "I can see it."

Turians dressed in the Hierarchy Naval colors were sprinting about silently over the security feed, moving with a controlled efficiency ingrained into their minds through years of disciplined practice. Most carried pistols or stun batons with them, all seeming to have an exceptional knowledge as to where they were traversing about the ship.

This traversing, in fact, appeared to detail sealing individual blast doors and shutting off the elevators leading down into the maintenance areas. They had omni-tools along with them, and no doubt the ship's encryption key on account of their concise blockading of the lower level's. Needless to say, the writing was clearly on the wall.

Someone had helped them from the inside. No way could they have broken out of their cell blocks, better yet overpower their guards and remain undetected for so long. Who had assisted in their breakout was anyone's guess and at the moment didn't matter considering the speed of his once cordially treated guests now running amok.

"Sir, gunshots have been reported near Level 1A and 2C," a comm officer called to him across the ways.

"Officers Mack, Harker, Cadell, and Crispus not responding to check-in," another operator declared.

"Put the ship on high alert," Larris ordered as he felt a wave of tension tighten through his veins. "Send all available officers down into the maintenance levels. And can someone please get me Sergeant Thurii?"

"Right here, sir!" The quarian security officer from earlier practically crashed into him, catching himself just before he collided with the much larger human. "What do you need?"

"I want you to take a squad of four down into the maintenance areas that have already been sealed. Take the elevator shafts without being seen and find a way to disengage the lockdown on every door or lift panel you find. I'm as well giving you permission to use any means necessary to complete your task." He straightened himself while clasping a palm onto the sergeant's insulated shoulder. "I entrust you'll put your experience in your Flotilla's special forces to good use."

The quarian's eyes lit up at the near limitless authorization given to him. Saluting with an excited stiffness reserved for commendation ceremonies, the sergeant could barely contain his elation. "Thank you, sir! I won't let you down!"

"I would hope so. Dismissed."

The spindly alien zipped off just as quickly as he'd entered. It would no doubt take the man time to properly arm and prepare whomever he'd lead down into the lower levels. How many security officers would he lose before then? How many lives would be taken trying to contain the chaos he could've prevented?

"Too many," he mumbled to himself, ending the phrase with a silent curse.

If he'd just disposed of the troublesome Hierarchy ship and her crew the moment they'd arrived, none of what was happening could've ever occurred. He, of course, had qualms with murdering prisoners outright, but the fact that those same prisoners had blatantly betrayed his good will at a moment's notice left him pondering if such charity was even justified.

Whatever the case may be, Larris promised himself that he'd never make the same mistake twice. The lives of outsiders didn't equate to the lives of his crew. It was as simple as that.

With a glance over at a nearby monitor, he briefly checked their current speed. Based upon their acceleration and the estimated pace of the Council emissaries, the _Arc Monitor_ would be in firing position in less than thirty minutes.

Earlier that day he would've felt a pervading sense of satisfaction at the news. He'd spent months dreaming of this precise moment, even longer pondering if such a course of action was even conceivable. The opportunity he'd been offered and the repercussions springing from it would finally bring about the eventual pacification of the Terminus and the fulfillment of his benefactor's' intentions.

But now, half in hour of waiting felt like eternity. Larris had never been one for paranoid contemplation, and yet he couldn't help but consider the chances of outside forces seeming hell bent on interrupting his plans. Just who or what kind of entity would have such overreaching power was beyond his imagination, but considering the fact that malevolent space machines from dark space, the Reapers, had existed only years prior, he wouldn't rule anything out.

Needless to say, the threat of failure hung over him like a jagged knife.

Sighing to himself, he continued to watch the ensuing conflict over the security feeds, observing with silent anxiousness of the uncertainty of the situation he now found himself in.

* * *

But under the chaos that was unfolding within the _Arc Monitor's_ hull, among the erupting firefights and ensuring melees, a different threat appeared out of the inky blackness of space. A slender, almost skeletal vessel of mid-size silently slid across the horizon; its onboard systems masked to any and all external forms of detection.

With a variable gracefulness, the stealth ship docked onto the bottom of the ship.

* * *

The sound of distant gunfire rang out as Ardarius and Cole rushed down the aged corridors of the dreadnought. A nearby explosion rocked the section they stood on and nearly caused both agents to tumble to the ground.

"Looks like the security forces aren't taking any chances," Ardarius noted as he straightened himself.

Cole nodded. "Siana and everyone else won't be able to hold out forever. We'll have to keep this quick."

"How do you plan on scuttling the engines exactly?" The turian asked as they continued running. "Explosives? EMP pulse? Smashing the console?"

"I was thinking more just sending the mass effect reactor into meltdown. Increasing the power output of each thruster should fry the onboard systems well enough. If they don't…" The human shrugged. "Smashing the console is always an option."

Ardarius grinned. "Always the handyman, huh?"

"I try to be."

The two agents kept on running for some time, eventually spotting an emergency ladder leading further into the maintenance area.

The deeper they went, the loud, steady rumbling of the reactors grew in intensity. Even through the thick armored plating, the booming vibrations of the ship's engines rattled fillings and made Cole shiver under the sensory pressure.

It as well became darker as they reached systems that were meant to be populated only under extreme cases of quintessential repair. Auxiliary lightening became dark blue slits of pale illumination, reminding both agents of the derelict Uhlan Station they'd traversed days prior. Each footstep left a print of dust in their wake, giving a tomb like appearance to the dim steel corridor.

After some time they reached an industrial looking door, a flickering terminal panel lying on the wall beside it. Without any preamble, Cole knelt down and got to work on hacking the ancient piece of hardware open.

However, it was only after a moment of trying that the human let out an agitated grunt and deactivated the codebreaking function on his omni-tool.

"Damn panel is too old to even be compatible with the omni's operating service," he explained with a glance to Ardarius and back to the stagnant terminal. "I'm going to have to do this manually."

"That's going to take some time. You'll have to work fast."

Cole was already unscrewing the screen's panel as he replied. "I'll try my best."

True to his word, the human's deft hands worked graciously amongst the grandfather electronics. After only a few minutes, a clutter of gutted wiring and discarded capacitors lied at Cole's feet, the casualties of his handiwork proudly apparent.

It was only as he rose back to his feet did he give any physical indication to his job's completion, flashing a confident smirk to Ardarius as he grandly gestured to the door.

"Shall we go in?"

The turian grinned and gave his own motion to the door. "After you."

Hitting the nearby button at the door's center, the rickety obstacle slowly ascended out of their way, both agents stepping inside in unintentional unison.

The engine area was better lit and evenly designed than either one of them was expecting. Initially foreseeing a similarly unlit chamber of rusted machinery, they instead found themselves in a nearly immaculate antechamber, polished silvered steel lining the walls and floor. A radiant, if not uncomfortably so, sapphire gleam glistened against the smooth metal paneling.

They both crossed the ancient door's threshold, the blunt edges of the platform slamming closed behind them. Ardarius and Cole barely had enough time to flinch at the unexpected noise, that they heard a weapon's hammer being pulled back and a familiar voice calling to them from across the room.

"Finally found you," Agent Grant said flatly.


	25. Truth in Its Entirety

Grant stepped out from the dark blue shadows; a silenced assault rifle clutched in his hands, barrel pointing ominously at both of them.

He eyed the two agents with cold fury, his gaze pointing acidic daggers behind his grey-green irises. His body was hunched into a firing position, a sharpshooter's stance that spoke of composure and skill. His well-built body still loomed over them, tense but controlled, nerves heightened to an almost erratic degree in their presence.

"You changed weapons," Cole stated plainly to his former colleague and friend.

"Save the pointless observations," Grant shot back icily. "This is just a continuation of what we started on Delmarva. Nothing more."

Ardarius's brow furrowed. "Then what about that little present you sent us on Eden Prime? Or does firebombing not count for you black ops types?"

"There're other ways of killing a man; I would hope the two of you know that. I'll admit that you've been surprisingly more resilient than I expected. Thankfully, it appears that recurring skill of yours isn't going to do you much good now."

"And yet you haven't killed us already," Cole replied. "Why?"

Grant's face darkened sullenly at the question. "Maybe it's because I want to remind you how much I trusted you, how important my new mission was and how vital you were to it. We could've been unstoppable, Cole, we could've brought real change to the Galaxy. We could've made a real difference in people's lives, more than what the Alliance ever could."

"And you walked away from me, without even listening to what was being offered to you. You and that 'morality' of yours, always trying to make yourself out to be the good guy. Once you found out that my employers weren't the stuffed shirts back on Earth, you turned your back on me like I didn't matter. And you and I both know it wasn't out of any virtue or duty you have to those people. It's something baser than all that: compensation."

"You try to make yourself out to be the hero, when in reality, you're the farthest thing from it. All those witnesses you 'roughed up' to get answers, the unnecessary casualties that were taken, things I covered up for you to keep you on duty and out of a mental ward? Those will never go away, ever. And trying to hold yourself as this amazing paragon of loyalty doesn't make you a better person out of it. It just makes you a liar."

"So yeah, maybe that's why I haven't pulled the trigger yet and splattered you all across this floor. Because I realize I'd be killing a sick man in the process, someone why might not even understand that what he's done is wrong. I know what my orders are and will follow them to no end, but that doesn't stop me from wondering if you should be dumped off at the nearest insane asylum instead."

Cole's teeth grit together, palms tightening into fists, eyes glaring fire back at the automatic weapon aimed straight at his torso. With venom dripping from his words, he responded at a snarl: "You promised you'd never talk about that."

The other human shrugged. "Things were different back then. And your current partner deserves to know the truth about you, in its entirety."

"You know I've gotten better. I've changed, damnit!"

"Really? Then how much unnecessary violence have you committed since we last work together? How many bodies were broken? How many lives were taken?"

Cole was silent to the stir of questions, prompting Ardarius to lean over to him with concern and fear. "Cole...what's he talking about?"

"I've gotten better…" He hissed back at the other human, ignoring Ardarius.

"How many, Cole?! Tell me how many?"

"One!" The smaller human screamed back, the end of his word punctuated by a distant explosion from somewhere in the ship. "It was one person, okay? This spindly batarian Blue Suns merc, barely old enough to even be considered an adult. Ardarius was there to see it and everything. I lied to his face to try and ignore what happened, even though we both knew what I did."

He looked to the sandy-plated turian, casting him a pleading look as he spoke. "It's...hard to stay in control sometimes. I'm not right in the head; I realize that. But I've been doing my best to keep these feelings in check for as long as I've been old enough to understand them. It's never been easy, but I still try regardless."

"By staying in a job that gives you a license to kill?" Grant cut in. "Be honest, Maxton, if you wanted to stop this, you'd have turned in your badge a long time ago. And I'm not sure if it's that convinced virtue of yours or enjoyment in what you do, but if you were serious about changing your ways, you would've gotten out of this line of work."

Grant flipped a switch on the weapon and steadied his aim at the two agents. "I take no pleasure in killing you," he said with a glance to Ardarius. "You seem like a good man and a talented operative. It's unfortunate you had to be paired with my former partner."

"And as for you Cole," he looked to the ANI agent in question. "You've made a bad series of choices that led you to this moment. It's never anyone's intention to be in the wrong afterall. But still, if it's any consolation, this is strictly business for me."

"You're lying."

The burly human shrugged. "So what if I am? You've done it plenty of times before. Now," Grant reached to the nose of his assault rifle, switching on its ominous red laser sight. Swaying his perspective slightly, he angled the beam directly at Cole's forehead. "Time to finish it."

What happened next almost seemed to happen in slow motion for all three individuals, events halting to a trickle of their normal speed, actions sluggishly progressing in a slackened progression of movement.

Grant's trigger finger coiled around the assault rifle's firing lever, the first of an intended volley of rounds erupting out of the barrel in a single explosion of white cascation. It was only after the first bullet left its home chamber that an explosion rumbled aggressively from above, jostling all three men and throwing the weapon's targeting skyward, into the immaculate ceiling.

Cole, seeing his single chance, charged towards the now distracted Grant, clearing the short distance between them in a rapid pumping of arms and diving into the air with both palms outstretched. A look of maddened anger and determination was written across the human's face, only increasing as he barreled into Grant at full force.

The assault rifle began its descent to the floor, falling gradually to the ground until finally clattering against it, a trail of gray vapor sizzling from where the single bullet had been fired. That shot in question, careened harmlessly past Ardarius's utterly dumbstruck face, watching in shocked awe at just how close the deadly projectile was to grazing his skull.

He as well was made aware of the two humans stumble to the floor, arms wrapped against one another, feet kicking frantically against the ground, each wrestling with an impassioned fervor that was reserved only for mortal combat. In the utter brutality etched across each man's expression, Ardarius could tell that only one of them would be walking away.

"Ardarius!" Cole howled at the top of his lungs, struggling to stay atop the brutish Grant. "Get down to the engines! I can handle this! Go!

The turian didn't need to be told twice. Bolting from the room without a look back, he ran off into the deeper labyrinth of maintenance tunnels, the wisping aura of mass effect beams providing illumination to his sprinting form.


	26. Fallen Heroes

Cole felt two white-knuckled fists wrap around his shirt, his body being heaved off of the fallen Grant like a sack of potatoes and tossed backward. Landing on his side, he rolled across the metal paneled antechamber, recovering swiftly to his feet with only a few scrapes along his attire.

He could see Grant ambling back into a standing posture; scorching rage draped with anguish evident across his expression. Cole had once again ruined his moment, his opportunity to end the years of sorrowed vengeance he'd been praying for since the two friends had gone their separate ways. Planning, anticipating, and hoping had brought him nothing but another failure in the face of adversity.

Now he was unarmed. The assault rifle he'd initially been wielding had slid far off to the sterile room's corner, well out of reach for either of them to grab. The suit he'd worn on Delmarva hung off his brawny form in rumpled creases, barely looking like what he'd first laid eyes on days before.

Cole took all this in as his hands slid down to the leather belt holster. Grant charged toward him, arms pumping furiously, eyes bearing murderous intentions at his much smaller opponent.

Cole was just beginning to feel the crisp metal of his holstered pistol when he felt the brutal force of the other agent barrel into him at a speed he never thought possible, his weapon flying out of his hand as he felt his assailant crash into his torso.

The wind was knocked from his lungs, balanced shattered as he took a wilted step backward to try and center his hopelessly outmatched body. But with the devil's luck, he was able to plant his stance firmly on the ground, heels sliding against the floor under Grant's useless attempt to tackle him, his form continuing to stay upright.

Grinning with adrenaline and fate on his side, Cole brought a sharp elbow down onto Grant's head, following with another elbow that prompted a brutish grunt from his attacker. Realizing that he was now at the disadvantage, Grant shoved gruffly at Cole's chest, pushing him away and giving the former ANI agent time to recover into a well-kept stance.

Still smiling at his small victory, Cole stepped inwards and swung at him with a curved jab, nailing Grant across the cheek. He stepped in closer to take another swing, unsteady confidence beginning to seep through his blood. Thus, it came as a surprise when his arcing fist was caught mid-swing and Grant's forehead bashed center into his nose.

His nerves loosened as blood began to spurt out from the facial wound, dazed senses stumbling backward as an unseen hay marker from his attacker made short work of whatever offensive spirit he might've had left.

Or so Grant thought as a sharp uppercut was delivered to his chin, rattling his composure and prompting him to stiffly punch the other man straight in the eye.

"Saw that last one coming a mile away," Grant said as he wiped a faint trail of red from the corners of his mouth. "A shame that after all this time, you still haven't learned a thing."

Cole was already panting a few paces away, body angled towards the ground and brushing the splatter of his own blood out of his predator-like eyes. "Shut up," we're the only two words he growled in reply.

He charged back into Grant's defensive area, hoping to surprise the man with his unanticipated and prevailing enthusiasm. Cole delivered two solid strikes, one into Grant's stomach and another into his side, before the beast of man countered with a devastating blow to the right of his head.

Cole's world became stars for a moment, giving just enough opportunity for two ironed palms to wrap around his throat and suddenly thrust him up into the air, holding him skyward by the flesh of his neck.

"You can't keep doing this, Maxton," Grant shouted fiercely, the echo of his words complemented by a series of distant explosions somewhere in the ship. "No matter where you go, no matter what you do, they'll find you, and you'll already be dead."

Cole's teeth grit with a savage ferocity as his legs sprung forward from his grappled position. The flats of his feet dug into Grant's chest and pushed off with all their might, relinquishing the former ANI agent's grip and stumbling him for a few precious seconds.

"Never has stopped me before," Cole said as he landed feet first, balled fist striking Grant in the gut, a sharp knee following into his face. "Why should it now?"

A powered chop thumped into his neck, choking his larynx and sending specks of blood gasping out from his single, panicked breath. Grant's overpowering grip once again ensnared itself around his head and flung him back across the room.

This time, Cole wasn't ready. His frame impacted harshly into the floor. Like a rag doll, he skidded across the ground, his world spinning without pause. The warm sensation of blood was all over his face, the rust iron taste all his dulled senses could clearly detect.

His body squirmed weakly from where he lied in an efforted approach to rising back to his feet. His desperate yet sluggish splaying of arms and legs only prompted Grant to scowl at his former friend. Approaching slowly, he kept his hands ready to strike if they had to; shoulders bowed in preparation for any conceivable second wind.

"You're only making this harder for yourself," Grant said fiercely, beginning to walk towards him. "You've _lost_."

Cole let out a raspy cough from the floor, keeping his back to the approaching man, his hands clutching stiffly at his upper torso, which was strange considering Grant hadn't directed most of his attacks in that region. "Says you."

"Playing the hero isn't going to keep you alive any longer you know." Grant delivered a sharp kick into his side. "It just makes you look more stubborn than you already are. But then again, by all accounts it would be hard to top how long you've been able to hold on so far."

Another kick into Cole's helpless body. "I guess I should take some pride in that. Shows that you really did learn something in all the years you were my partner. You've improved a bit too, I'll give you that. Your forms a little too sloppy and you're trying too hard to use a brute strengths that you don't possess."

Cole let out a pained chuckle. "Sorry for disappointing you."

"And there it is." Another kick, his anger turning sharper. "This refusal to even admit that you've been beaten. Do you realize how childish that looks, how insane _you_ look when you do that. No honor, no creed, just bullish obsession in trying to prove yourself." Kick. "I mean, have you even once questioned why you were even assigned to this mission in the first place?" Kick.

"Trade routes! Can you believe that? All this conflict because the turians didn't like there precious little trade routes getting sacked. Oh sure, things changed the further you went down the rabbit hole but _that's_ what started this whole game of yours, this game you seem so intent on winning." Kick.

"And what would you even got out of it? Nothing! You'll just be right back to where you started, chasing corruption and piracy cases like you always do. Whatever you do here won't change that tiring status quo. Why can't you see that? Why can't you give this up?" Grant grabbed him by his shirt's collar and thrust him into face level. "Why can't you just die already?!"

Another bloodied cough escaped from Cole's throat. At barely a whisper, he replied: "Because I won't."

The glint of gun metal could be seen for a split second, followed by a four shot volley ringing out, four bright muzzle flashes illuminating the already well-lit chamber beyond measure.

With widened eyes Grant brought a queried palm to his chest, regarding the crimson print of his own blood on it with horrified understanding. His grip slipped away from Cole, his body going limp as he crumpled to the ground.

It took a monstrous level of effort for Cole to push himself back to his feet, his muscles outright refusing what he told them to do and close to failing him entirely. Eventually, however, he finally straightened himself to an ambled gaunt, looming over the fallen form of Grant with the nose of his pistol pointed downwards.

"You bastard," Grant rasped with an indignant scowl. "I should've known you'd-"

"Shut up," The ANI agent commanded as he clicked the weapon's safety off. "I don't need anymore of your lectures or criticisms. I'm through trying to be civil with you."

The wounded man glared hatefully up at him. "Than kill me. Do what you've always wanted you damn psychopath. At least finish it how you've always wanted to."

"No," Cole stated as he moved the gun away from his former friend. "I never wanted to hurt you, Grant. To be quite honest I never thought about you much until Delmarva. And even that wasn't done out of maliciousness or a desire for revenge. You were a threat to me, nothing else. And I don't know where you got this notion that I've always hated your guts. In fact, after what you've said today, I would think that _you_ fit that bill a lot better than me."

The wounded man said nothing.

Cole holstered his pistol. "I've had enough of killing on my part, at least for this mission. Bleed out, escape, take a bullet in the mouth, I don't care how you go from here, as long as it doesn't concern me," he began to limp towards the door, "I really don't mind."

"They'll kill me if you don't," Grant called after him, a single hand clutching at his wounded chest. "I'm already a dead man."

The agent didn't look back as he replied, the chamber's automatic door already opening for him. He stepped past the threshold.

"I'll guess you'll have to figure out if 'they'll' keep to their word."

And then he was gone.


	27. Force of Impact

**Hey guys, Sion here!**

 **Welp, we're getting close to the end! College started for me this semester so of course I've been up to my eyeballs in school work. Thankfully, I've still been finding time to edit and write the remaining chapters in the story and will keep on getting them out as soon as possible. In the meantime, here's another chapter for you awesome folks!**

* * *

 _Earlier…_

Ardarius dashed along the endless sprawl of catwalks spawning across the mass effect reactor chamber. 'Chamber' was quite the correct phrase to describe the space, considering it jutted out in what felt like a sadistically twisted corridor. Not a single door or lift platform gave the indication as to where he even was, leaving the sandy plated turian to rely upon the map interface Cole had given to him.

Speaking of Cole, there was no telling just what he became of him. The last time he'd seen him was him tackling the blonde brute of a human, the assassin that had thus far chased them across their galaxy spanning escapade, Agent Grant. Considering the more than supplementary frame the human assassin had and his exemplary track record when still within Alliance Naval Intelligence, Cole was no doubt in for a tough opponent indeed.

For now, though, he was to focus his attention on finding the center engine controls and finding some way to send the reactors into meltdown. A job of such technical prowess was something he preferred to have Cole perform, as had been their original plan. But considering the current dire circumstances they found themselves in, his less than masterful knowledge of advanced electronics would have to suffice.

He finally located an official looking terminal placed off in a somewhat darkened section of the narrow sprawl. It was of a bulky, archaic design with the recent trappings of more modern interstellar technology. Several flat monitors sat above the console, detailing a wide assortment of technical readouts he couldn't make eye or ear of.

What was more outstanding about the terminal, though, was the single turian engineer standing over the console, attention focused on systems he was meant to monitor. It was as Ardarius stood in wait for the crewman to realize his presence that the male turian finally cast a casual glance his way, before freezing in place as fearful realization clutched his body.

"H-Hey," the engineer, a spindly stick with gray colored plates and adorned in a black jumpsuit, blurted skittishly. "J-Just who are you? The Captain d-didn't say he was sending anyone down. And w-why are you out of uniform? D-Don't you know there's b-been a bunch of escaped prisoners o-o-on…" The engineer's eyes suddenly widened. "Oh Spirits! You're one of _them_!"

The turian's hand sprung for a holdout pistol strapped to his thigh. Just as he relinquished the weapon from its holster, Ardarius darted forwards and slapped the pistol from his would-be attacker's palms.

"That wasn't very smart of you," the Hierarchy agent growled as he grabbed at the engineer's jumpsuit collar and yanked him close. "If I didn't think you'd pull the trigger I would've been a bit less cordial with you."

The turian's face paled. "P-Please don't kill me. I d-didn't mean to-"

"Pull a weapon on a Hierarchy Intelligence agent? Somehow, I doubt that."

The engineer turned an even deeper shade of white. "N-No...you m-must be lying…"

"If I were, we wouldn't be talking right now. Either way, you shouldn't concern yourself with who I work for. What you should be doing, is helping me bring down this ship of yours."

The other turian shook his head sturbornly, gaining a sense of indignance to his words. "T-There's no way you can stop it, not now. The particle beam has already been charged and is r-ready to fire. There's n-nothing you can do here."

Ardarius's grip tightened on the engineer. "I don't think I mentioned anything about this particle weapon of yours. I'm more interested in your ship's mass effect reactor. Namely, sending it into meltdown."

"W-What! You can't do that! You'll tear the whole ship apart!"

"That's the intention," he shoved the engineer towards the console. "Now get to work on burning out that element zero of yours."

"Y-Yeah?" The stuttering turian retorted with his back against the terminal. "What're you g-going to do if I d-don't?"

The HIA agent leveled his weapon with the engineer's stomach. "Then I'll shoot your guts out and ask again. I'm no doctor but I'm well aware of just how painful a wound like that can be. I felt it myself during my active combat service for the Hiearchy, something you clearly haven't gone through. Now unless you want a few extra holes in your intestines, I suggest you get to work."

The crewman needed no more motivation than that.

Like a man possessed, the spindly turian pressed keys and flipped switches at a pace Ardarius didn't even think was possible on a Keeper's level of dexterity. The engineer was less than composed throughout the entire ordeal, sweating profusely and mumbling morosely to himself at the cursed scenario he'd been forced into.

Eventually, however, he turned away from the terminal, grave-faced and somber to what he'd just done.

Ardarius looked at the console just to make sure it wasn't some act. Sure enough, the computer board was alight with several flashing red lights and monitors pinging system alerts. As if he needed more indication, a loud metallic groan went through the surrounding corridor, jostling the entire chamber momentarily and sending out a minor tremor through the rest of the ship.

"It's done," the engineer announced flatly.

Ardarius nodded. "Good. How long before the reactor blows?"

"L-Less than twenty minutes. C-Can I go now or are y-you going to shoot me r-regardless?"

"No. You can go. I'm done here."

The turian didn't even wait for any other approval before dashing off in the other direction, leaving Ardarius alone at the console concisely detailing the _Arc Monitor_ 's imminent doom.

Another groan went through the chamber, this time stumbling Ardarius and requiring him to grip a nearby pipe for support.

"Guess it's time to abandon ship," he muttered to himself, opening the comm interface of his omni-tool with a few taps. Without hesitating, he pinged Cole's contact icon and waited for a response.

The network channel was opened almost immediately, but instead of hearing his partner's voice on the other end, he was greeted with a stir of crackled static, gunshots, and indiscernible yelling from all sides. Visual contact hadn't been activated by the receiving call as well, leaving him without any indicator if he'd even connected with Cole in the first place.

" _Ardarius?_ " A familiar human voice said of the ambient interference and background chaos. " _Can you hear me?_ "

"Cole? Cole? Are you there?"

" _I'm here._ "

"Cole, where are you? What happened to Grant?"

His partner paused on his line. " _Grant's...gone, as far as I can tell. But right now Siana, her crew, and myself are sort of in a jam right now. We could really use your help._ "

"Alright. I'm on my way. Which level are you guys on?"

" _We're up on 2B, close to the docking hangars._ " An explosion sounded off nearby to wherever Cole was standing, panicked screaming coming from all around the comm. " _Please get here as quick as you can. I'm not sure how long we can hold-damn, it! More incoming!_ "

The line went dead.

The longer Captain Larris examined the situation unfolding within his ship over the security feeds, the more anxious he became as to its eventual outcome.

The escaped turian crewman had established an impressive defensive perimeter on Level 2B of the ship. With a combination of storage crates and torn metal paneling, a sizeable barrier had been constructed between the only still-functioning elevator leading down onto that particular section of the dreadnought. Gunfire and low-yield explosives had proven thus far ineffective against crushing the makeshift fortress.

As if that wasn't bad enough, Weaponry had as well become an issue for dislodging the Hierarchy prisoners. What had started out as just a handful of pistols pilfered from dead security officers had become several shotguns and even a submachine gun amongst the climbing body count of his men. They'd of course taken a few of the Hierarchy grunts with them, but not before losing an uncomfortably disproportionate amount in comparison.

Still, their intentions of making a mad dash for the hangars had been blatant from the very start. Perhaps they'd been hoping the shock of their active breakout would have created a window for their escape or had just underestimated the competency of the _Arc Monitor_ 's crew. Whatever the case maybe, the doors leading into the hangars had been locked down remotely from the bridge. If anyone were ever to get the massive blast gates open, they'd have to do it from where he was standing.

"Eighteen minutes and counting from particle beam firing position," a comm officer called to Larris, jolting him out of his thoughts.

"Good." He nodded to the crewman without skipping a beat. "Keep me posted on our current ETA." He turned away from the operator and looked over at a krogan crewman manning another workstation. "Lieutenant, where's our tracking feed for the Council Emissary vessel?"

"Right here, sir," the krogan rumbled in reply, clicking a few keys on his terminal before summoning up a new display window on a nearby monitor.

Captain Larris approached the screen like a hunter assessing its prey, the console's electronic light painting across his scarred flesh, his lipless mouth pressing against itself as he examined the _Arc Monitor_ 's soon-to-be target.

It was a standard bureaucratic government vessel. Fat and impractical, excessively curved outer frame diluting any sense of subtility still left upon the pitiful machine. It had been painted an ostentatious shade of white with thick black highlights drawing attention to the sickeningly decadent center of the ship that no doubt housed the bumbling sentients unelected in their role of representing their respective species. The only quality of positive note he could find was the massive set of quad-mounted engines stuffed onto the ship's stern. It wouldn't take a genius to deduce that engines of such size made a speedy getaway guaranteed if the occupants desired it.

He wouldn't give them a chance to even consider one.

Once the ship had crossed the border into the Terminus via the Halgoa Relay, all that would remain of the plan would be to fire the particle beam at their unsuspecting targets and disappear back into the shadows. From their, galactic politics would take hold, ensuring that a ludicrous ultimatum would be proposed to the various warlords suspected of perpetrating such an attack (actually finding out who did it would be inconsequential considering the limitless reasons the Terminus warlords had in despising the Council).

And this ultimatum would have the eventual and desired outcome of a war between the systems. It was a simple fact that the nonsensical, barbaric, or conniving 'leaders' of the various factions dominating that section of space would never be able to agree in full to the listed demands of an enraged conclave of Council representatives. This lack of agreement, the most base of strife across the galaxy, would be the spark that reshaped galactic society for the better. All he'd have to do would be hold up his end of the agreement.

It'd been strange being approached by the powerful benefactors that had supplied him with the information necessary to complete his plan. The fact that they had a knowledge of his existence was impressive enough, but their intel of Hierarchy and Alliance ship movements was something he never thought possible from the same source. It was as they could practically _predict_ how each respective administration would react.

Needless to say, who he was working for had some very reliable contacts.

He was startled again when he heard the voice of someone hailing him from across the room. His body instinctively approached its source, a human comm officer at the far edge of the bridge.

"Sir," the operator greeted with an inclination of his head toward his workstation monitor, tone suggesting this wasn't the first time he'd hailed Larris at that moment. "I'm getting some strange readings from down in the reactor core. I think you should take a look."

Larris was only a few paces away from the crewman, gaze already reaching the glowing orange readout of the monitor before him. He stopped in place as his eyes registered the jumble of numbers and figures, diagrams, and readouts flashing on screen with a uniform spontaneity.

His eyes narrowed at what he saw.

"Is this information correct, Ensign?" He asked with glacial calmness.

"Yessir, I've cross-referenced the displayed information with previous reports and made sure that my terminal is running at max efficiency."

"Has Engineering been notified?"

"They have, sir. But their path down to the reactor is hampered by the prisoners sealing of the elevators leading down to maintenance. Even if they were able to get there, they still wouldn't be able to stop a potential meltdown."

"And how long would you estimate until an entire collapse?"

"I'm not entirely sure, sir. It could be anywhere from sixteen to twenty minutes-"

Larris fist slammed with rageful intensity into a nearby wall paneling, the hardened metal bending to his force of impact. He held his palm inside the small indentation for a brief second, watching the thin trickle of blood run down from his bandaged hands, teeth gritting at the unbearable pain he felt in his knuckles.

Feeling all eyes of the bridge now on him, he slid his hand away from the shocked operator's station and walked with prim composure back to the center of the chamber. He betrayed not a hint of emotion as he moved, body almost seeming to hover like a ghostly specter.

"All of you are to evacuate immediately to the escape ships in the auxiliary hangar," Larris announced flatly. "Notify the entire crew to this development. Don't concern yourselves with the progression of the plan; I will remain here to see it through."

"But sir-!" one turian comm officer exclaimed with indignation.

He held up a palm to stop the young man. "This isn't a discussion. The _Arc Monitor_ is soon to be destroyed. I won't leave any of you here to suffer a death that could've been avoided. You're all young, full of possibilities, and shouldn't be condemned by a decision that was made by someone commanding over you."

"And besides," he said as he shifted his eyes out into the rushing expanse of mass effect rays billowing across the bridge's viewscreen, "a good captain always goes down with the ship."


	28. A Way Out

Back on Level 2B, the escaped crew of the _Palaven's Fire_ and the remaining security officers of the _Arc Monitor_ were still engaged in what felt like a perpetual firefight between one another.

The prisoners turned saboteurs were trapped in their current position. With the hangar doors sealed behind them and nothing but their makeshift barriers keeping out the brunt of incoming fire, the Hierarchy turians were showing an incredible resilience in the face of such devastating odds. Despite having weapons of somewhat lower yield, the entrapped naval troopers fought back with everything they had, not giving up an inch of their territory against their adversaries much larger numbers.

The security officers, positioned with that section's elevators behind them, were as well not letting up in their siege. Clothed in heavy black combat armor (and led by a lithe but surprisingly hardy quarian sergeant) the stalwart protectors of the rogue dreadnought gave the dug-in turians a run for their money. They understood that a direct assault would be suicide on their part, even with their superior protection. Instead, they opted to whittle their opponents down, using a mixture of suppressing fire and expertly aimed stun grenades to gradually move forward.

Agent Maxton Cole threw himself flat to the ground just as a volley of automatic rounds whizzed past where his head had once been. The resounding thunderclap of a shotgun discharging answered whoever had fired the original burst in Cole's direction, the shooter's attention diverting towards another target for the time being.

Now in cover behind a set of crates, Cole loaded a fresh clip into his pistol as a turian crewman beside him blind fired from their own pistol. It was only as the figure popped back down into the relative safety of their position that he realized it was Lieutenant Siana Terso.

"How's it look up there?" The female turian asked with a panting alertness.

The human grunted. "Security officers still have our first line barriers. They're moving some of their officers back and leaving only the frontline troopers behind for some reason."

Siana chewed the lower edge of her lip nervously. "I wonder why that is?"

A burst of fire peppered against the wall beside them, prompting both recently formed comrades to duck in unison. Disjointed sputters of the escaped crew's only submachine gunner resounded back.

"Doesn't make much sense to me," the human continued. "They could've overrun us by now if they were willing to risk the manpower."

"Keep in mind that we're not their highest priority," Siana reminded. "We're just the distraction and they more than likely realized that the second we took up position here."

"You think this captain of there's," a round impacted just a few inches above them, "would've figured it out that quickly?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. He's been able to play the Hierarchy and Alliance for fools this entire time, after all."

Cole nodded an affirmative, opening his mouth to say something before his face suddenly winced at a burning pain shooting through his lower neck and skull.

With a finger raised to show he still had something to say, he promptly administered himself with a dose of medigel from his omni-tool display. He let out a breathy sigh as the miracle substance worked its magic on his battered face, bruises shrank, bloodied cuts scabbed, swelling subsided in mere seconds.

"I hate doing that," he finally said behind a pinched breath, gasping at the rush of painkillers injected into his blood. "I never understood how soldiers were always able to take it so well in stride."

Siana couldn't help but grin at his greenness. She remembered feeling exactly the same way, all those years ago. "You'll get used to it eventually. Just remember to always take deep breaths after using it."

The two got back to the task at hand, exchanging a seemingly never ending cycle of fire in the opposite direction. It was hard to tell if they scored any hits, better yet if they were making progress in giving themselves some breathing room. By all accounts, they still had a majority of their numbers with them, which was already a victory within itself.

Gradually, they began to notice large chunks of the security officers side filing into the nearby elevators, laying down a crippling wave of suppressing fire to cover their apparent escape. With their better judgment in mind, the escaped crewman shot off as much returning fire they could while keeping their heads down. Again, it was hard to tell if it was even worth it in the first place.

Several minutes later, the turians and human found themselves with nobody left to shoot at, finally alone on the smoldering, war-torn corridor.

Scorch marks from their gunfire and grenade detonations dotted the aged metal paneling, while their makeshift barricades still stood high amongst the now ended onslaught. Handfuls of bodies littered both sides of the hallway.

By tally, the turians had lost only three of their men, while the security officers had lost two. Hardly the bloodbath the crew from the _Palaven's Fire_ had been expecting.

"Clear!" One of the turians furthest most from the rest of the group shouted out.

"Clear!" Another one declared in confirmation.

As if a switch had been flipped, the weary defenders arose from their covered positions and cast confused glances along the now tranquil area. A few talked quietly amongst one another as if raised voices would suddenly bring about the din of gunfire once again.

The group was just barely able to acclimate themselves with the modest tranquility when a pounding of sprinting feet sounded against a connecting corridor. An order didn't even need to be given as the entire group brought their weapons back to the ready. A symphony of safeties being clicked off as all weapons swerved toward's the corridor's edge.

"I take it things have worked out for the better?" Ardarius said as he emerged from the shadowed and indistinct corridor to their right, hands raised in the air. "Do you guys still need my help?"

* * *

"Ardarius," Cole said with more graciousness in his voice than he intended. "It's good you were able to find us. Are the reactors…?"

"Taken care of?" His partner finished. "Yeah, they've been put out of commission." The sandy-plated turian gestured around to the hallway riddled with scorch marks. "As I assume all of you have been able to do here as well?"

"Not exactly," Captain Olymrius said as he stepped forward, holstering his recently commandeered sidearm. "The outbound hangar doors," he pointed to the sealed blast shield behind them, "have been remotely locked down from the ship's center bridge terminal. Your partner tried hacking into the wall terminals base commands, but we still couldn't find a way past it."

"It's the only place they would've stored our ship," the human added. " _If_ they even bothered to keep it around after they towed it in with their tractor beam. Either way, our only chance of getting off this ship is through those doors, and we're already running out of time. How long ago did you sabotage the critical systems?"

Ardarius shrugged. "About four minutes ago. The engineer who I 'convinced' to help me do it gauged about twenty minutes would be all the time the reactor had left in it. Do the subtraction and well…"

"We're running out of time just standing here," Olymrius interrupted. "We need to get up to the bridge area and unlock the hangar as soon as possible."

Ardarius shook his head. "We can't all go as one group. It'll be too easy of a target for the ship's security to pass up. We'll be cut down for sure."

"What we need is a lone operative. Someone who can move efficiently through the halls without attracting too much attention."

"I'll do it," Siana answered as she stepped forward.

Olymrius cast her an uncertain look. "Are you sure? You're not going to have any backup from our end."

"I'll be okay. Just stay close to the door and I'll radio you once the lockdown ends."

Ardarius glanced over at his human counterpart. "Cole, give Siana the codebreaker you brought along. She's going to need it."

The human didn't reply, instead clicking keys along his holographic display with a rapid intensity more akin to a Geth tech specialist platform than a spindly human. A thin trail of sweat had already formed across his brow, scrawls of numbers and data points flashing into view with only momentary clarity.

"Cole, have you even been listening?"

The ANI agent said nothing.

"Cole, just what in the hell are you even doing?"

"Finding a workaround," the human muttered, casting a gaze at Siana, only now realizing what had originally been asked of him. "Take this with you," he said as he tossed her a bulky, calculator-like device her way.

She caught it between in her palms and pocketed it without a second thought.

"It's an encryption codebreaker. One of the guards had it on them. That should get you past any doors you can't hack."

"Thanks," she said with an inclination of her head. "But...what exactly was that 'workaround' you mentioned?"

"Well it's a little bit iffy, but it might just be your best bargaining chip in case anyone's still on the bridge."

"That being...?"

Cole shrugged. "More or less, the entire ship's crew."


	29. All That's Lost

The elevator ride up to the _Arc Monitor_ 's bridge level was a slow and agonizing one for Siana.

It'd been years since she'd served in frontline combat. And while she was proud to say she'd handled herself more than adequately in the firefight near the sealed hangar, being all alone in a dreadnought full of hostiles was something entirely different. All she had was her pistol, her omni-tool, and the codebreaker the human, Cole, had given to her. Match that with the heavily armored, heavily armed security officers swarming along the rogue ship's corridors and her odds became ever slimmer.

But it wasn't just her life that was in danger, it was the other crewman of the _Palaven's Fire_ as well as the two intelligence agents who'd made their way aboard. Nearly a dozen lives were depending on her providing them their one chance at escaping the doomed ship. She was their one and only hope, which brought a significant amount of pressure that was just now beginning to sink in.

Siana sighed to herself.

A part of her wished that she'd never opted to go with the _Palaven's Fire_. Their psychological exams could've very well been completed at a later date and damn to the Hierarchy big wig who'd committed the highest of turian crimes in bungling the Fleet's nearly flawless record of orderly planning. Then maybe she wouldn't have found herself in the middle of such a mess.

She promptly shook the idea out of her mind. There was no sense in wishing for the past to be any different. It had already happened after all and was something she couldn't change no matter how hard she tried. She'd just have to keep a level head and ensure that things would turn out for the better in the present.

A growing rumble sounded out somewhere on the ship, shaking the elevator cabin and causing the interior lights to flicker briefly. Siana gripped the small space's guardrails as the elevator halted in its ascent, holding a breath as the lift's internal motors sputtered against one another. After a few brief seconds that felt like hours, the elevator continued in its path upwards.

There were more rumbling and even the distinct groan of metal from sections she passed. It appeared that Ardarius had been correct in his projection at just how long the ship had. From how fast the damage was progressing (from what she could tell anyway), the ship was already showing chinks in its once formidable armor. She cursed herself for not setting her omni-tool's timer to figure out how much longer until the vessel's reactor went critical.

The very thought of being aboard the dreadnought when its mass effect drive collapsed in on itself was a kind of death that no sane individual would ever pray to befall. Instant incineration by element zero waves, followed by a literal scattering of her molecules, every single atom ripped apart and thrown into the desolate vacuum of space. There wasn't a unit of measurement small enough to measure any remains that had the possibility of being recovered.

She jolted as the elevator suddenly came to a halt, the lift doors sliding open sharply as if she was an invited guest aboard the ship. With a hesitant, but determined certainty, Siana poked her head out of the lift to see just where she was.

The elevator had left her off in a very wide-spaced corridor, a hangar catwalk by the looks of it, one designed for transporting heavy loads of supplies or personnel. At the moment, it was mostly just the personnel.

Crewman and security officers, all adorned in either black service suits or combat armor, were jogging orderly but anxiously towards a moderate fleet of escape ships. A warning klaxon wailed overhead, supplemented by a chorus of orders being barked by a choice select of commanding officers (all of which were a mish mash of different species) and the resounding tremors shaking the ship ever so violently.

Nobody seemed to take notice of her as she stepped out of the elevator, crowds of sentients rushing to the escape ships without any concern for her presence. She narrowly dodged a krogan security officer hefting several crates of supplies in his arms, not even casting her a second glance as she weaved out of the way.

So it appeared the crew of the _Arc Monitor_ were aware of their situation and were following a military style evacuation that she couldn't help but admire. The efficiency they were operating under, especially with an assortment of turians, humans, krogans, salarians, and even quarians, was an impressive feat even by Hierarchy standards. It was a shame such talent was going to waste.

But back to the task at hand. She stepped back from rest of the ground and brought up her map display of the dreadnought. According to the screen, the bridge was just a short ways away from where she stood.

Siana grinned to herself. At least something else was going her way.

* * *

Or so she thought.

Despite her easy jog through the empty hallways leading to it, Siana came to realize as she arrived at the pair of doors leading into the bridge that they'd been locked from the inside. Cursing to herself, she unstrapped the codebreaker from her belt and pinged Cole on her comm link.

"Cole, I've run into a situation. The bridge has been locked down from a terminal inside. How can I get the breaker to open it?"

The human's voice crackled in reply, the connection turning spotty but still understandable enough. " _Okay, first you need to place the back of the device onto the door's center._ "

She did just that. "Now what?"

" _Select the designation code 'alpha two three nine' on the front console. Then hit the center command key._ "

As her finger compressed the command button, an electronic chirping began from the device, a small circular notch along its top beginning to spin with a uniform spontaneity.

" _Now you'll just have to wait. The process shouldn't take more than a minute._ "

Siana grunted at the news. "How much time do we still have then?"

" _Eight or ten minutes at this point. We're all prepped and ready down here once you're finished. Do you remember the plan?_ "

She nodded even though there was no way the human could see it. "I remember."

" _Keep in mind that it may not even be necessary. Maybe this Captain of there's actually jumped ship too to save his own skin..."_

"As much as I'd like to believe that Cole, I doubt that'll be the case. Either way, I'll call you back when the time's right. Siana out."

The comm connection was closed from her end before Cole even had the chance to reply, which had been her intention to begin with. Her nerves were already sending shockwaves down her spine while she could feel her breathing becoming increasingly short. It felt like the very walls of the ship would close around her the longer she stood in place, second's slipping by with each passing moment.

The codebreaker still chirped away against the door's internal locking mechanisms. Another tremor, this time, feeling like the shock wave from an explosion, rattled the ship from below and knocked a nearby fire suppression cylinder off its hinges. A section of ceiling paneling followed the suppressor to the ground as something cumbersome and metallic collapsed on the floor above her. The breaker's notch continued to spin.

It took the span of fifteen more seconds for a loud clunk from the bridge door's lower section to be heard. Siana could only assume that that was indication that its magnetic locks had been disengaged by the handy little device. Swiping the boxy piece of hardware off its perch, Siana pinged the door's opening key without preamble.

It swished open.

Only as her body stepped past the threshold that she noticed the imposing figure standing with its back to her. The entire berth of the _Arc Monitor_ 's bridge stretched before them, an angled horizon of monitors and blinking computer terminals, devoid of any sentient operators save for the single bipedal figure.

The bridge door swished shut behind her.

"I knew I hadn't seen the last of you," Captain Samuel Larris rasped through his scorched lungs, turning his hellish face around to face Siana. "You're more resourceful than you give yourself credit for."

"Thank you for the compliment," Siana replied as she unholstered her pistol and pointed it straight at the man. "Now drop your weapons."

The Captain chuckled to himself as he raised both of his bandaged arms into the air. "I am unarmed. Besides, if I wanted you dead I wouldn't have ordered the bridge's security detachment to the escape ships."

"Which I assume is where you're going after all of this is over, huh? Once you slaughter dozens of innocents for your own twisted means."

"In exchange for the Galaxy to finally be made a safer place," he corrected. "But I doubt you came all this way to argue the morality of my plan. Are you here to kill me then? The deliberate destruction of my ship not good enough for you?"

Siana grit her teeth. "I was only here to get the hangar doors open. But it looks like you still haven't realized you've already lost."

"Have I?" Larris gestured up at a monitor to his left. "I don't think so."

The terminal display showed a moderately sized passenger vessel with several indiscernible numerical readouts beside it. The ship was of the diplomatic sort, expensively designed, bearing the regal white color scheme and silver insignia of the Council. Siana could as well clearly recognize the atomic timer clicking away at the screen's far end, showing minutes, seconds, and milliseconds all the way down to the line.

There were roughly ten minutes left on the screen.

"I know it wasn't just you and your crew who set the reactor into meltdown," Larris continued. "Those two agents, the turian, and the human were the saboteurs I never got my hands on. Shame I wasn't able to meet them in person. They managed well enough with the situation that was given to them. How they were able to find me on the other hand, well...I guess I'll never know."

"You're coming with me," Siana said with a step forward, the gun still clutched in her hands. "You deserve to stand trial for what you've done, the lives you've taken and the peace you're trying to derail. It isn't right."

"Oh? And so this aforementioned 'peace' is justified when it's off the backs of lobotomized slaves owned by the batarians or civilians caught in the crossfire of a warlord border dispute? Yes, this _peace_ , this status quo is tranquil for the established nations of the Galaxy, but what about the unheard innocents crying out for a different way of life, an escape from the horrid existence they've been dealt?"

Larris gestured to himself. "Myself, my crew, and my generous benefactors are the ones offering a second chance to the people of the Terminus Systems. For too long the masses only sit back and watch as the world around them changes into something it was never meant to be. But when a small group of outsiders begins to work their magic...anything can happen."

"In less than ten minutes, the mindless bureaucrats light years away from where we speak will be destroyed by the _Arc Monitor_ 's particle beam. There will be a war between the Terminus and the Council, and the first step towards a brighter future will finally be undertaken."

"Even if it means sacrificing your own life and those of everyone from the _Palaven's Fire_ , including myself and those two agents?" Siana countered.

The Captain shrugged. "I've always been willing to die for what's right. As for your crew, I already hold an animosity for any who've deliberately put the lives of those I care most about in danger. And the two agents," he spread his palms, "it's a tragedy such talent goes to waste. But they got themselves into this mess after all."

"That might be true, but what about _your_ crew? Would you sacrifice them for this 'greater good' of yours?"

The human's soulless white eyes narrowed at the allusion, his posture stiffening slightly. "What are you talking about? They'll already…"

The sudden ping of an incoming call came from Larris's omni-tool. With a quick glance to the wrist-mounted device and another to Siana (her weapon still raised), he accepted the haled communication with the slightest touch of hesitance.

" _Sir_ ," came the heavily accented voice of a male quarian from the other end. " _We're having some trouble getting the hangar shields open. There seems to be something wrong with the auto-lock system._ "

"W-What?" The Captain replied in queried anxiety. "Are you sure, Sergeant? My console says that the doors should be working on your end."

" _They aren't, sir. We're stuck down here in the loading bay, prepped but trapped at the time being. Is there anything you can do from up there?_ "

"Yes," Larris growled as he closed the comm link, casting a savage glare at Siana. "There is."


End file.
